Estrelas
by Shimegami-chan
Summary: AU. Sam's attention is captured by a lonely ghost haunting her grandmother's attic...and discovering his secrets will take everything she has.
1. Otherwordly Encounter

A/N: Alternate universe. Romantic elements. Ghost boys. Drama and forbidden friendships. Interested? Read on.

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Estrelas

_by Shimegami-chan_

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_

The air was dank and chilly, seeping ghostlike through the open hatch, as though it were a gate between two worlds. At the bottom of the stairs was the comforting aroma of broccoli alfredo bubbling on the stove, the summer heat permeating every inch of the two-floored house. At the top, the attic, blackness lit only by a tiny hexagonal window accompanied by few sputtering bulbs, and the lingering smell of disuse.

"Geez...when's the last time anybody came up here? 1955?"

Sam coughed and tried to fan grey particles away from her face, but succeeding only in stirring up more, the dust motes spiraling around in the tiny ray of sun coming through the window. She fumbled for the switch at the top of the ladder, sighing in relief when the electrical system flooded the room with forty (times three) watts of yellow light.

"I'm surprised the lights even work still." Sam shoved an open cardboard box out of her path with the toe of her combat boot. "It's filthy up here!" she yelled in the direction of the hatch, voice carrying across the expansive attic and down the ladder, barely audible to the rest of the house.

"What?" her grandmother called back.

"Argh...nothing!" Stepping over a pile of ancient clothing, Sam pushed her raven hair out of her eyes with one hand and steadied herself against a rafter with the other. She coughed again, this time into the sleeve of her shirt. The dust in Grandma's attic was thicker than glue, barely visible in the air but tangible enough to impair her breathing. Irritated, she knelt gingerly with one stockinged knee on a stray sheer curtain and drew one of the boxes closer, inspecting the writing on its side.

At least the important things were organized, Sam told herself, even if nobody ever cleaned up here. Her grandmother had told her that the crate labeled "keepsakes" was what she wanted brought down. Sam was usually not one to begrudge her favorite relative a favour (how Grandma could be related to a man as incorrigible as her father, she would never understand), but her allergies combined with recent illness made the attic a very unpleasant place to be.

The dust was so thick on the floor that Sam was sure no one had set foot up here since her father had went away to college twenty years previous. Pushing away the "cutlery" crate, she stood and clomped further into the dark recesses of the room, looking for boxes whose labels faced the wall.

There, in the corner. Sam kicked aside a deflated air mattress to get closer to a large, rectangular box that looked as though it had originally contained a kitchen appliance of some sort. Upon closer inspection, though, it didn't appear to be labeled at all, and when she turned it to check the opposite side, it was as light as if it were empty. Puzzled, Sam peeled back the duct tape that held the cardboard flaps together, and pulled them apart.

There was a sound like an explosion, and _something_ blue and shining shot out of the crate, cackling madly. A rush of cold air flooded past Sam's bare arms and she cried out in surprise, falling backwards onto the wooden floorboards, causing the dust to funnel upwards in tiny maelstroms.

The spectre, squat and humanoid, threw its arms up into the air. "I am...the Box Ghost!"

Sam's throat closed over as she stared at the apparition. Glowing faintly, its skin was a pale bluish-green and its eyes bizarrely shining as they trained on her. It thrust chubby hands in front of her face. "_Beware!_ For I control all these square containers, and you, girl, are at my mercy!"

"I...uh..." Sam wasn't really sure whether to scream or reach for something sizable to beat the little man with. She had always fancied herself the take-charge type, but this seemed a bit of out her league - she'd never really believed in the paranormal, even though her grandmother's hometown of Amity Park was famous for its ghostly legends. "Stay back! You..._monster_. Don't come any closer!"

"I wouldn't worry about this guy. He's not a threat." Another voice, a male's soft alto and, as Sam discovered when she looked around for its source, disembodied. "Come on, you, you're going back in the box."

"No!" the Box Ghost fumed, holding its arms in front of him as if to ward off an attack. "You shall not seal me within that cardboard prison again! This girl has finally freed me!"

The boy's voice chuckled lightly. "And you repay her by scaring the hell out of her. Nice."

"She will be my human contact!" the ghost insisted.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Sam demanded, recovering her voice. Not taking her eyes off the Box Ghost, she felt around behind her with one hand, looking for something she could use as a weapon in case it tried to get any closer - not that she was sure any weapon would even affect a ghost. The situation, however, seemed to be resolving itself in a way Sam couldn't see, as the Box Ghost engaged in a struggle with the source of the voice, kicking and punching at it, to no avail.

"Sorry about this." Right before her eyes, the ghost was wrestled back into its box, and the flaps folded tightly over one another. Within the cardboard cube, it struggled a bit, and after only a few moments, became silent and docile.

Sam did not move an inch.

After what seemed like an eternity, she took a long look around the attic, expecting...what? Another monster? "Hey...is anybody here?"

No reply came back to her. Violet eyes hard, Sam inspected the box the ghost had been shut in from a good distance, wondering if it could escape without the duct tape seal. The source of the voice from before did not show itself or speak again.

"_Samantha_!" Her grandmother's voice broke the silence.

Sam jumped, knocking over a wooden vase with her hand. "Uh...yeah?"

"Can you come down here for a minute? I need your help in the kitchen."

"Okay, I'm on my way." Sam leapt to her feet, taking a last look around the dim room. Still nothing appeared before her, and the Box Ghost's prison lay quite dormant in its corner. Gingerly stepping back over the pile of air mattress and curtains, she made her way along the narrow path back to the attic hatch, stopping when she found it blocked by a crate that she was certain had not been there before. Written very clearly on the top flap was the word "Keepsakes".

Mouth dry, Sam hoisted the container into her arms, trying and failing to avoid smearing dust all over her black t-shirt. Not looking back, she hurriedly descended the ladder to the second floor and closed the hatch without stopping to turn off the lights.

* * *

"Grandma." Sam stirred sugar into her cup of tea, willing herself to look into her grandmother's face. "You know all that stuff that they say about Amity Park being haunted? Do you think any of that's true?"

"Haunted, eh?" Grandma Manson paused with one hand on the teapot, her expression thoughtful. "Well, I've never seen anything myself, but I wouldn't say I disbelieve it. The things you hear around here, they're almost too much to be coincidence."

"Like what?"

"Mostly what you read in the paper...ghost attacks and miracles and whatnot. They call this place the biggest centre of paranormal activity in the country, you know. Nearly every house in town has some story or another of being haunted."

"Even this one?"

"Even this one, but I've lived in this house for fifty years, child. I'd know if it were haunted. Your father used to insist he heard noises in the attic all the time, but he was the only one who ever did."

"In...the attic?" Sam was so preoccupied that she allowed the milk to overfill her teacup, causing the tea to slosh over the rim and pool in its saucer.

"That's what he said. But you were just up there, Samantha, so you _know_ there's nothing strange, right? Ah, your father had the wildest imagination, though. He used to ask me so many questions, just like you're doing now."

Sam nodded slowly and lowered her lips to her cup, sipping away enough tea to allow her to lift it without spilling. "Dad never talks about that kind of thing at home."

"No, of course not," her grandmother agreed. "I suppose outside of Amity, ghost stories are really only tall tales. Anyway, dear, I called you down to mind the stove while I pick up some more vegetables from the market, is that all right?"

"Sure."

"Wonderful. I'd hate for that delicious sauce to burn - you may turn me to your vegetarian ways after all, my dear. Let me just go and get my purse, and I'll be back in a flash."

"Okay." Sam continued to sit at the table as her grandmother left the room, letting the teacup warm her frozen hands. She was still a bit shocked from the scene in the attic, but couldn't tell Grandma 'no, you can't leave, because I'm scared of the ghosts I saw up there.' She was Sam Manson - she was tougher than that.

The phone jangled on the wall above Sam's head, startling her out of her thoughts. Grabbing the receiver, she held it to her ear with one hand and lowered her cup to its saucer in the other, opening her mouth to speak, and closing it again when she recognized her grandmother's voice answering on the other extension. "Hello?"

Halfway back to the cradle, her father's voice leapt out of the tiny speaker, as jarring as ever. Sam paused. "_Afternoon, Mother_."

"Oh, it's you, dear. I wasn't expecting to hear from you again so soon." Grandma's voice was faint but audible. Cautiously, Sam brought the receiver back to hearing range, curious at what her father might have to say. He had called yesterday as well, but Sam had refused to speak to him.

"_I'm just lucky that you picked up and not Sam. She hung up on me yesterday._"

"Oh, I see." Grandma didn't sound terribly surprised. It wasn't news to her that Sam wasn't getting along with her parents, that being one of several reasons she was shipped off to Amity Park for the summer. To her credit, she hadn't tried to broach the subject with Sam unless the teenager brought it up first.

"_Yes, well, whether she chooses to acknowledge it or not, I do want to make sure she's all right. How are things?_"

"Well enough," Grandma replied, with a _tsk_ing noise. "She's still looking a bit pale, but she's been up and about more than usual lately, helping me around the house and whatnot."

"_She's doing housework? Voluntarily?_" Sam resisted the urge to snap at her father, instead scowling at the kitchen wall. How typical of him to assume she would laze around and do nothing when visiting Amity! Just because she had servants to clean up after her at home didn't mean she would take others' hospitality for granted. Taking a deep breath with one hand covering the mouthpiece of the phone, Sam sat back down in her chair and listened complacently to the discussion.

Her grandmother's voice was immediately on the defense. "Of course she is. Why shouldn't she?"

"_Nothing, I just...thought she would be using her illness as an excuse not to help out. Have you managed to break her out of those awful clothes yet?_"

Sam visualized Ida Manson rolling her eyes, but even knowing that her grandmother was on her side, the teenager was already back in the angry mood that had constantly overshadowed her in the months before coming to Amity. Didn't her father care _at all_ about her feelings? Of course, he could not have known she'd be listening in on the other line, but that was no excuse to insinuate things about her, or act like her individualism needed to be changed to suit his needs. He was even more pigheaded than before, in Sam's opinion.

Disgusted, she hung up the phone, not caring if anyone had heard the sound of the receiver being set down, and stormed to her room to calm herself down. She threw herself on the bed and buried her face in her purple pillowcase, eyes shut tightly. _What did I do to deserve the flakiest parents on the planet? I may be an only child, but damn, they were children once too, they should know what it's like!_

But she knew that there was no way they could put themselves on her level. Her father had been an academic prodigy, her mother a spoiled rich brat. Together the two of them made the most obnoxious combination of humanity that the world ever bore witness to, and then had a daughter together, who began rebelling at the tender age of ten. Now seventeen, Sam was in constant torture from either her snobby prep school classmates or her socialite parents, depending on the time of day. The only aquaintance she had that was her age was a technology geek who lived on the next block named Tucker, whom her parents wouldn't allow to bring into the house, because he was 'too low-class.'

_"But Mom, he lives in our neighbourhood, doesn't that cost a lot of money?"_ she had said in protest at eleven, when her mother had sternly told her that she was not to be seen with Tucker.

_"Money doesn't instantly give you status, Sammie. Why can't you make friends with some of those nice girls from school?"_

Yeah, right. An all-girls school like the one she attended was just a breeding ground for cheerleaders and the Yale-bound preppies, neither of which Sam tended to blend in with. She hadn't had company at her lunch table since second grade.

Soft footsteps outside of her room altered Sam to her grandmother's presence in the hallway. "Samantha? I'm going to the market now, do you mind...?"

"Go on, I'll be right out." Sam rolled over to face the ceiling, which was decorated like a spangled night sky.When she stayed in this room as a child, she would squint and the string of lights around the perimeter of the ceiling would also become stars, stretching and blurring into each other against the dark.

_It's not fair. Why can't anyone accept me the way I am?_

Viewed through angry tears, the stars distorted and melted together, like trails of purple fire reaching out to hold one anothers' hands.

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_-to be continued..._

A/N: Comments are greatly appreciated.


	2. Confrontation

A/N: Glad I got a few responses, hope you guys enjoy chapter 2. In case anyone's wondering, the name of the fic is Portuguese for "Stars", and in this case it originated from Final Fantasy 4's resident bard, Gilbert (Edward in the English version). More on that at another time if anyone actually wants to hear it.

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Estrelas

Chapter 2

_by Shimegami-chan_

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It was two days before Sam mustered the courage to go back up into the attic, on a sunny July afternoon when her grandmother was out in the garden, tending to her pansies. Logically, Sam thought this was a pretty safe arrangement, because Grandma would be within earshot, but far enough away that she might not hear any strange happenings from the third floor. Sam had located a baseball bat for her own protection and a roll of duct tape to further ensure the Box Ghost's confinement. She wasn't sure what other kinds of objects warded off ghosts, but she wore a silver crucifix around her neck and had "borrowed" a vial full of holy water from a local cathedral, just in case. It never hurt to be prepared (though she wasn't sure that vampire accessories were going to work against any other supernatural beings).

She also wasn't entirely sure what she was going to do once she got up there. Tape up the Box Ghost and leave? Try to communicate with that other mysterious voice? What if it was a ghost too, and she ended up possessed or worse? Sam was figuring she'd just play things by ear. After all, who really cared if she got hurt or killed up there anyway, except Grandma? She'd rather take the risk than leave the attic haunted and possibly put her grandmother in danger. If that really _was_ another ghost, she'd figure out how to get rid of it.

Somehow.

Sam grabbed the cord on the ceiling hatch and pulled until the panel came down enough for her to situate the fold-up stairs on the carpeted hallway. Slinging the bat over one shoulder, she looked up into the darkened third floor, willing whatever might be inhabiting it to be nice and docile. She noticed with growing dread that the lights were off. Had Grandma noticed the illumination peeking out around the hatch, and gone up to turn them off? If that was the case, why didn't she ask Sam for help? Her grandmother got along fine most of the time, but she usually took her cane when she'd be doing any significant walking. She knew better than to go climbing ladders when Sam was right here in the house ninety-five percent of the time.

Biting back her fear, Sam climbed up the eight little stairs, holding the tiny railing for support. At the top, she hit the light switch, eyes trained immediately on the Box Ghost's corner as the light flooded the room. Nothing moved there or elsewhere in the attic.

Holding a rafter for balance as she walked around the perimeter of the hatch, Sam allowed the roll of duct tape to slide back onto her forearm, but kept her right hand wrapped tightly around the handle of the bat. She followed the path that led to the southeast corner of the house, passing the box of cutlery, the heap of clothes, the old train set, the crate piled with pots and pans, and finally the deflated air mattress, toeing it to one side as she approached the area. When she was about a metre away, she stopped, and merely inspected the box, anticipating movement of some sort.

When it remained silent, Sam tucked the bat under her arm to free her hands and tore off a wide strip of duct tape, choosing to lay the first piece down quickly in case the ghost sensed her and tried to escape, and deal with taping the box up good and tight once she was sure it could not get to her. Studying the way the flaps were closed over one another - in a clockwise fashion, each flap tamping its neighbour down - she decided to just tape over it all rather than unfolding and refolding them and presenting the ghost with the possibility of escape. Holding her breath, Sam gently laid the bat down on the floor beside her and stepped forward, securing the first piece of tape directly over the top of the crate, and extending an inch or two down each side. To her immense relief, the box did not move or indicate in any way that there was a ghost trapped within it. _If _there was still a ghost trapped within it.

Heart rate subsiding somewhat, Sam tore off several more strips of tape and continued to apply them until the surface area of the cardboard was entirely grey. Then, taking out a Sharpie from her skirt pocket, she scribbled "Do Not Open" on four of its six sides. The box continued to be calm and unmoving.

Satisfied, Sam placed both marker and tape aside on the floor and picked the bat back up, slinging it over her shoulder. Then, mustering all the courage she had, she addressed the voice that had spoken to the Box Ghost two days before.

"Hey...I know there's someone else in here. Show yourself."

No answer. Sam's resolve faltered somewhat, and she looked around the large room, trying to keep her expression neutral. "Don't pretend you can't hear me! I said, come out, whatever you are!"

"And what will you do if I do?" The disembodied voice was startlingly close to her ear. Sam jumped and spun around, but there was no one behind her, just boxes and heaps of clothes.

"That depends on what you are and what you're capable of," she replied quietly, grip tightening on the bat. "I won't allow anything to stay here that might put my family in danger."

"I've been here for decades, maybe centuries. If I didn't hurt them before, why would I start now?"

"I don't know. That Box Ghost guy seemed like he wouldn't mind hurting a few old ladies. What makes you any different?" Now that Sam had her back to the corner of the room, the voice seemed to be coming from there again. But when she turned, she knew instinctively that she was not going to be able to tell exactly where this thing was unless she could see it. "Can't you become visible?"

"I don't like people to see me."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm a ghost. In case that wasn't apparant."

"I'd assumed that." Sam didn't take her eyes away from the area where she thought the ghost might be. She noticed that the closer she got to the east wall of the house, the colder it was, despite the July heat outside. One of the vents from the air conditioner did go through the attic, but it shouldn't have been nearly enough to make it _cold_ up here. She tentatively stepped closer to the wall, noticing a further drop in the temperature.

"I'm not going to hurt anyone, I swear it. I _helped_ you back there. You think it was smart of me to reveal myself to someone and risk getting exorcised later by some of those nutjob ghost hunters? I did that because the Box Ghost could have caused mischief for your grandmother. If I hadn't stepped in, you would never have known I was here."

"That's true." Sam relaxed her grip slightly. She had wanted to ask the ghost _why_ it had helped her, but it didn't seem necessary now.

She heard it sigh, a long, drawn-out sound that chilled her nearly as much as the frigid air did. "So please...just go back to your life, and forget I'm here, okay? That's all I want. Just some peace and quiet."

"Hey, wait." Sam paused, uncertain what to say. It was just too weird to think that a stranger - even a paranormal one - had been and would be living in their attic and only she knew about it. There was something about it that just didn't seem _right_.

And yet it had saved her from that other ghost, and was now asking for a favour in return. _What good is it to repay kindness with malice?_ Her parents had taught her _some_ socially-acceptable morals at least. Finally she lowered the bat and stood with one hand on her hip, eyes focused on the spot where she _thought_ the ghost could be (but still wasn't absolutely sure). "Okay, I'll keep quiet about you. Just don't let me catch you doing anything weird to my Grandma."

"Of course not."

"Fine." Sam backed away slowly, not turning her back on the spirit until she was kneeling to pick up the marker and tape from where they lay on the floor. Then, cautiously but deliberately, she made her way back to the attic hatch without looking over her shoulder, half-expecting to feel ghostly breath on her bare shoulders, or her steps detained by ethereal hands. Instead, it allowed her to reach the hatch and climb down without incident, this time flicking the lights off before hurrying down the narrow stairs.

* * *

"Samantha, are you in there?"

"Mmm?" Sam looked up from her _Keroro Gunso_ comic. "Come in."

Grandma Manson opened the door to Sam's room and peeked in, her short grey hair mussed from yard work. "There's a woman here to see you. A friend of your mother's, apparently."

"To see _me_?" Sam sat up and put the comic aside, wishing she'd thought to put some makeup on. Since spending all morning anticipating a fight with the ghosts in the attic, she hadn't really had a chance to think about her daily routine. Hurriedly she ran fingers through her chin-length black hair, glancing in the vanity mirror for reassurance.

"I'm as surprised as you." The elderly woman shrugged and opened the door the rest of the way for Sam to follow her into the hallway and down the stairs. "I didn't realize your mother had any acquaintances in Amity."

"Neither did I," Sam replied, a little suspicious. She attempted to put on a friendly smile for her visitor, failed, and ended up going to the door with a neutral expression. "Hi."

The woman outside was fairly tall, with bright red hair and purple-rimmed sunglasses. She wore a business suit in a shade of magenta that was almost blinding, and a fake-looking smile. _Yeah...seems like a friend of Mom's, all right._

"Well, hello there!" the woman cried, immediately sticking her hand out. The teenager shook it with some hesitation. "You must be Samantha. My name is Penelope, and I was _just_ wondering how you were doing, dear, so I thought I'd drop by. Your mother asked me some time ago to check on you when I had the chance."

"She didn't tell me anything about it," Sam replied, hiding her reaction to the low temperature of Penelope's hand. It was icy cold, worse than the air in the attic.

"_Tsk_, how like her, to call me all the way out here and not even prepare you! She always was like that. Avoidant personality when we were in college, too, let me tell you."

"Oh, you went to college with Mom?" Sam wasn't quite sure yet if this was a bad thing or a good thing. She hoped the woman would give her something else to work with.

"I certainly did! She lived in the dorm room next door to me. Sweet girl, very sweet girl. How _has_ she been?"

"You've probably been talking to her more recently than I have," the teenager replied dryly.

Penelope laughed "That's probably true! Now, do you mind if I come in? We can have a nice chat. I've got all afternoon!"

"Er...sure." It probably couldn't hurt to entertain her for a few minutes, Sam decided. She hoped Penelope didn't think she was the same kind of gossip-monger her mother was as she stepped back and allowed the woman passage before shutting the screen door behind her. Once the door had latched, Sam led the way to the kitchen, where she gestured at the wooden chairs around the table. "Here's probably okay."

Her grandmother entered the room through the other door, very deliberately arching her eyebrow once she had caught Sam's eye. "Ah, Penelope, was it? Will you be staying for tea?"

"Oh, yes please, Mrs. Manson. I'm here to talk with Samantha and see how she's doing. Her mother's so _very_ concerned about her."

"I'm sure," Ida replied dryly.

"Of course, we'll wait until we're alone before we talk about anything important," Penelope assured Sam, earning herself a curious look from the gothic teen.

"Alone?" Her grandmother looked a bit shocked. "Oh, well, I understand. I'll leave you in private, then." She turned and left through the same door, closing it quietly. Sam was starting to get an unpleasant feeling about Penelope, not just her demeanour, but her motives for this little visit.

Somewhat apprehensively, she turned her attention to the redhead. "Well...Penelope. It seems as though you have a particular discussion in mind?"

The woman inspected Sam carefully. "Now now, no need to get your back up about it. Your mother's been concerned for your well-being, so she asked me to come speak to you about some specific things. You're essentially recovered from your illness now, is that right?"

"Yes." Sam didn't ask how Penelope knew she'd been sick. Her mother clearly had once again opened her big mouth, looking for attention and sympathy. "I'm still pretty exhausted most of the time, but I'm up and about now."

The redhead _tsk_ed again. "Yes, mono certainly does drag on, I had it once myself when I was a teen. But you poor dear, it hit you at a terrible time, didn't it? Right in the middle of the school year?"

"Yeah, that's right."

"I tell you, Samantha, Amity Park is a perfect place to recover. The air is so much clearer here than it is in the city - I never understood why Liza wanted to stay there. But won't you just have an _awful_ time adapting when you get home?"

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, her mouth dry.

"Well...having to repeat a grade and all. I'm sure you're disappointed that your friends are graduating and you have to stay back."

"I don't have any friends," Sam muttered, averting her eyes. Hell, she'd probably be better off with this year's twelfth graders, they didn't know her enough to make fun of her.

"Really?" Penelope looked shocked, angling her head down until she forcibly caught Sam's gaze. "That can't be true. A lovely, smart young woman such as yourself...?"

"Ah...no." For some reason, the compliment was more depressing than uplifting. There was something in the woman's face that made Sam want to frown. "I never was the social type."

"What a crying shame," Penelope declared, catching the girl's chin in her fingers. "You have such beautiful eyes, Samantha, you know? And you're saying...no friends? No boyfriend?"

"Please, call me Sam. And my parents have tried to get me to date sons of their friends, but I'm not interested, so no."

Penelope's expression changed slightly. "Why do you think you have trouble making friends, dear?"

"Ah...why? I guess the reason's partially because of my personality, but also might be partly my parents..."

"Go on."

Sam frowned and propped her chin up in her hand. It seemed as though if she kept her eyes on Penelope's face, the woman was less inclined to go grabbing at her with those manicured claws. "Well, they don't really seem to like the people I meet and bring home. I had a friend a few years ago that I really liked, but my mom said that he was 'too low-class.' Not the first time they'd said something like that, but it was the last."

"I see." Penelope gazed intently at her, and Sam noticed that the woman's eyes were a rather disconcerting shade of green. They were so bright that they practically glowed. "What else?"

"They...only seem to want me to make friends with people they approve of first. And I really don't like many of those people."

"Hmm, yes, Liza did say you were a bit abrasive with your classmates."

"She _said_ that?" Sam's cheeks flared with anger and a little embarrassment. "Why would she tell you that?"

"Oh, Samantha dear, don't be _angry_. Liza was just preparing me to talk to you, and she wanted me to have all the facts."

"Well, that's not a fact!" the teenager growled.

"Oh, no?" Penelope's eyes were like chips of ice. "She also told me that you were suspended three times last year alone for getting into fistfights at school...and that was _before_ you were ill. You don't think that's 'abrasive?'"

Sam deflated visibly, easing back down into her chair before she even realized she'd been on her feet. "I...guess I was a little out of line there, yeah."

"And why do you dislike your classmates, Samantha? Do you think these violent tendencies have anything to do with not being able to make friends?"

"I can make friends!" Sam argued. "There just isn't anyone around that I _want_ to be friends with! And...I'm not violent. I was provoked." But once she thought about it, she'd been the one doing most of the provoking. Sam Manson was not the kind of girl who allowed herself to be picked on.

"And yet you don't seem to have any?"

Sam shot to her feet, all defenses now on high alert. "Listen," she told the woman through clenched teeth. "I don't want to talk about this. I'm sorry you came all the way out here just to see me, but you can tell my mother next time to stay the hell out of my personal life. I'm not interested in her _or_ you prying into my thoughts."

Penelope inhaled slowly, eyes closed and expression complacent. "Of course...Samantha."

Furiously, Sam turned her back on the woman and stormed to her room, holding back angry tears. How _dare_ that woman barge in and start asking her those kinds of personal questions? And what on earth has possessed Sam to answer them? How much information had her mother been telling people? She was grinding her teeth so hard in her frustration that they ached, and her stomach felt like she had eaten lead. How dare that woman insinuate that there was something wrong with the way Sam lived her life? She wanted to cry, but muffled it in her pillow, knowing that her grandmother was in the next room and well within earshot.

_So what if I don't make friends easily? A true friend is someone you feel a connection with immediately, not like those girls with their stuck-up attitudes and little clique societies. There isn't one person at that school who could ever understand me._

_No one will ever understand me._

This thought more than any of the others brought a choked sob to Sam's throat, one that she could keep down. _I can't cry. I can't let Grandma see me like this._

She had to get away. Throwing the pillow aside, Sam ran out of the room and down to the porch, shoving her feet into her combat boots before she spotted Penelope standing in the driveway, leaning against her red sports car and chatting on a cell phone. _Damn that woman, why can't she just leave? _Turning again, Sam rushed back up the steps and into the hallway, yanking so hard on the attic hatch that the stairs nearly unfolded themselves on her head.

Then, without a second thought as to what or whom she might encounter, she fled into the attic.

* * *

-_to be continued..._

A/N: Again, I love the feedback. Reviews are what keep me going. ;)


	3. Getting To Know You

Zoom. Welcome to chapter 3! If you don't know who the ghost is yet, well, you don't know me very well. But I don't expect you to, since I'm pretty new to the fandom.

Speaking of that, is it customary to reply to reviews within the fic? I seem to be seeing a lot of that in the DP section. I usually don't like writing too many author's notes or cluttering this area with a ton of text, especially in middle chapters of fics, so I'm not sure if I should follow the crowd in this case or not...but there aren't many of you, so I guess I may as well do a few shout-outs.

**katiesparks** - Don't worry, he will be. ;)

**Kagome M.K.** - Well, here you are I guess! Thanks for your support!

**Fanficaholic** - You know she is! Who could be a better listener than a guy who hasn't had anyone to talk to in years?

**Crossover Fiend** - Kudos to you for recognizing Penelope; I think it may have slipped by some people. XD

**chocolatemercury** - Thanks so much for the comments on my writing. I don't hear that very much, so it's encouraging. And I will certainly come to you if I need anymore Portuguese!

**Galateagirl** - Thank you! Hope you stayed tuned for chapters 2 and 3!

Cool. Now that that's handled...

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 3

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Stumbling in the near-darkness, Sam guided her steps by the tiny amount of light coming from the hexagonal window, heading for the corner opposite that of the Box Ghost's crate, the area where Grandma Manson kept old furniture. The kitchen tables and old armchairs up here had obviously seen better days, tattered under the claws of various pets, and probably constructed well over forty years previous. One matching set of loveseat and chair were covered with protective plastic, but Sam ignored them and flopped onto a vintage sofa, causing plumes of grey to fly up into her face. She coughed violently, her eyes refilling with moisture as her allergies kicked in.

"Damn it," Sam swore around a mouthful of dust. "What the heck is wrong with me?"

_Great job, Sam. Mom's probably told everyone in her little network about how pitiful you are already. Any other ways you can think of to make your life miserable?_

Even as she thought it, though, another part of her protested that she shouldn't care what others thought of her. That wasn't the way her personality worked. _But the things Penelope said...they were all true. I don't have any friends, no future, people think I'm a violent freak...why hide it? It probably can't get any worse than this, anyway._

Fresh sobs leapt to her throat, overpowering the allergy tears with unrestrained emotion. _God, I should just take off now and put my parents out of their misery. Maybe they can have another kid that isn't such a failure next._

Closing her eyes, Sam drew in her legs and wrapped her arms around them, resting her forehead against her knees. This was crazy, this was wrong, why was she thinking like this all of a sudden? Penelope's words had had an impact Sam never could have imagined herself experiencing. She simply could not stop crying, her body shaking so hard from the force of her sobs that the rickety legs of the sofa were rattling on the wooden floor.

And it was so damned _cold_ up here, even this far from the air conditioner vent, the chill seeped through her long-sleeved black shirt and clung to her skin like a fog. She breathed out, and imagined she could see the exhalation in the freezing air. It was abnormal.

_It's that ghost,_ she realized suddenly, noticing as the temperature dropped drastically again. _He's closeby. _"No, stay away!" she choked out, the words torn apart by heavy breaths. "Don't come any closer--!"

"Hey, uh…Samantha…" It was the voice from before.

"_Don't call me that!_"

"I'm sorry." It paused. "I thought...well, never mind. You're...crying."

"_Thank_ you, Captain Obvious!" Her words lacked malice, no matter how much she tried to put into them, and it frightened her nearly as much as her reaction to Penelope's accusations.

"I was just trying to help."

Somehow, the fact that it felt sorry for her just made things worse. Sam threw out a hand in front of her as if to bodily push the spectre away, even though she had no way of knowing how close it was or even where it was in relation to her. The coldness had drawn back slightly, and she fervently hoped it had backed off. "I don't want any help from some creepy ghost."

"Ouch."

"What, did I hurt your _feelings_?" she spat, opening her eyes and tilting her chin back to look at the ceiling. She refused to look anywhere ahead of her as long as she couldn't see where the thing was - it was unsettling, and made her angry that she might be talking to it with her eyes front when it was off to the side. It was bizarre.

The ghost didn't answer.

A little of the venom drained out of Sam. The spirit had withdrawn further, she knew, because it was no longer so chilly that she shivered, though her cheeks still felt as if they were coated in ice. The tears had also thankfully stopped, drying onto her face in the patterns they had fallen in. She was momentarily thankful that she hadn't worn eyeliner today after all.

After the creature stayed silent for another few moments, Sam lowered her head and looked around, not entirely certain what she expected to see. It had to still be here; the attic was its haunt after all, and the cold had not entirely disappeared. She wished she could tell how far away it was. Worse, she was starting to feel guilty about what she'd said.

"I can't believe I'd be apologizing to a ghost," she said slowly, drawing her knees closer to her chest. "But I guess it's better than admitting I'm as terrible a person as everyone seems to think."

"Don't worry about it," the voice said quietly in return. It was far enough away that she had to strain slightly to hear it speak.

"Thanks."

"Do you...want to talk about it?"

Sam laughed bitterly. "Why not? At least _you_ won't go off and get me committed to a psych ward."

"I'd hope not."

"Heh." She mopped up the remaining moisture from her face using the sleeve of her shirt. "I guess I'm just your typical angsty teenager, as much as I hate to say it. My parents...don't really like me. They'd rather I be exact copies of them, I guess."

The ghost made a _hmm_ sound. "I understand."

"One of my mom's friends came to visit, to 'check up' on me. My mother had told her all these things about me, that I fought with my classmates, got suspended, that I was violent and unfriendly...I guess it hurt a lot because it's the truth. It hurt that she'd tell these things to someone I don't even know and expect them to straighten me out or whatever."

"I don't think that was right of her," the voice declared. Sam almost had to hold back a snort of bemusement that this ghost would go and make that kind of judgment call about a human. Sure, even ghosts had been alive and human once, but wasn't most of the reason they were dangerous was because they were malicious and unthinking? Their human sides had left them to mindlessly haunt some place or object they'd left behind? At least, no ghost she'd ever heard of had professed to be as "friendly" as this one acted, except for in kids' cartoons and books. The people writing _those_ stories had obviously never experienced an Amity Park haunting.

"I guess. She says she does things in my best interest."

"She's probably only looking out for you," the voice agreed, to Sam's surprise. "Listen...do you mind if I come a little closer so I can hear you better?"

"Yeah. Not too close, though," she cautioned. Even though the spectre didn't seem dangerous, she wasn't about to let herself trust it. She sensed it approach, raising goosebumps on the skin of her neck and hands. Even under her long-sleeved shirt and black jeans, the chill cut her to the bone.

It noticed her discomfort, too. "Hang on. I'll get you a blanket."

"Wait. You don't have to--" she broke off as the cold feeling withdrew completely, jumping as a sound on the other side of the attic alerted Sam to movement. A box was being rummaged through. A moment later, a quilt was borne to her on the air and settled about her shoulders. It was mercifully dust-free and smelled sweet, as though it had been packed alongside potpourri.

"Your grandmother's," it told her simply. "Used to hang on the living room wall."

"Oh--yes," she sputtered, somewhat surprised that the ghost knew about anything outside the world of the attic. "I remember it."

Sam sensed the creature move away once it had settled the blanket around her, and when it spoke again she still couldn't tell where it was, just that it was closer than before. "Go on, then."

"Wait," she told it, shaking her head. "I need to know where you are. I hate not knowing which direction to talk in."

"Right in front of you," the spirit responded. "I'm on the armchair."

She stared hard, but of course Sam could not see so much as a ripple in the air, or a shadow on the plastic that covered the chair. _It probably isn't 'on' the chair, idiot, it's floating above it, or in it, or something. _The thought made her shiver. "Okay. Well...my mom's always been a bit of a fruitcake, I guess. She wanted me to go to her alma mater, and probably be just like her, a preppie know-it-all with just enough good looks and money to make her popular. You probably know the type."

"I do," the ghost replied dryly.

"My grandparents on Mom's side had a lot of money, too, that my mother inherited when they died, so she really could afford to give me everything she wanted for me. My dad...well, I get the feeling that he started off with a little more personality, but he was really smart and pretty obnoxious when he was my age, and still is, I guess. He pretty much agrees with whatever Mom thinks the social circles want from us, and he's embarrassed because of the way I dress."

"You wear a lot of black."

"Yeah. Guess you wouldn't know what's going on out there nowadays, but we call my style 'goth', and it's usually decorated with a lot more accessories than I've got on right now. I dressed down for the occasion of catching the Box Ghost."

"Right." The voice said this last word with some hesitation, and Sam blinked, waiting for it to continue. "I...don't see why your father hates the way you dress. I think it's kind of pretty."

Sam's heart rate jumped. Had the ghost just complimented her?

"So," it continued hurriedly, as if to change the subject, "is that why you're here in Amity? To get away from your parents for a while?"

"Kind of," she replied, still trying to calm herself down from the incredibly strange experience of being complimented by a ghost. By a dead man, or maybe just a boy; it was hard to tell from the pitch of his voice. He spoke in a soft alto, which was a boyish range, but it was echoed slightly - and who knew about how close someone's voice would be to their original after they'd died? Maybe this ghost had been an old man when he passed away, and chose to remember himself in his younger days. Maybe it was even someone she knew, like a relative. Now _that_ was disturbing. Was that even possible, or were ghosts stuck in the age they died at? She'd never been close enough to one to find out before. So intent was Sam on this line of thought that she stopped in the middle of her reply, and only recalled it when the spook made a noise like it was clearing its throat.

_Creeeeeepy._

"Um. Kind of, that is, I'm also recovering from a sickness. I had something called mono a few months back, which is really exhausting, and they thought I'd recover better if I was away from the city. My parents live in Whipstaff, which is about sixty miles east of here."

"Oh, I see. I guess that's why they sent someone to talk to you instead of coming out here themselves."

"That, or they're too afraid to ask me questions," Sam replied bitterly. "My parents can't even _pretend _to understand what I'm thinking most of the time. Sending a surrogate is just another example of them taking the easy way out."

"It seems to have gotten the opposite result of what they wanted."

"No kidding." Sam laughed, but the sound was empty of any humour. "Now that my head's clear, though...I'm still mad, but I've calmed down a bit. The things she said were pretty harsh."

"Like what? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Like there's any point in holding back now, after I just spilled my life story to you? She said that I was 'abrasive'. She insinuated that I would never have any friends, because I can't seem to find anyone intelligent enough to understand me that my parents would actually permit in the house. I'm violent, apparently, and probably stupid too, because after I got sick I fell so far behind in school that I wasn't able to graduate with the rest of my class. Seems like all signs my parents gave her point to 'screwup.'"

The creature's voice was quiet, subdued. "Do you think that about yourself?"

"I didn't."

"Do you now?"

"I don't know. A bit, I guess." Sam frowned and pulled the quilt more tightly around herself.

After a moment, the ghost spoke again, its voice still very quiet. Sam had to lean a little forward to hear it over its own echo. "Listen...I'm probably not very good at giving advice. But the things that woman said were out of line, and I don't think you should be too hard on yourself about them. If those flaws are real in you, I don't see them. And as for your parents, they probably think that if you grow up to be like them, you'll turn out right, so they're trying to point you in a direction that they know will work, even if it isn't one that you want to go in. Every parent fears that something will go wrong for their child and they'll feel responsible."

"Were you ever a parent?" Sam asked, her mouth dry.

"No." The ghost laughed slightly. "I never ended up being old enough to do such a thing. But I can say that I think I understand people pretty well, if I look at them objectively."

"I..." she paused, trying to reorient her thoughts, licking her lips. "I guess I never thought about it that way, but you might be right."

His voice sounded almost...sad. "I've had a lot of time to think up here. I could probably outwit any psychologist."

"How long have you been here?"

"Long enough. You lose track of the years after a while, but I guess it's been about fifty or sixty. You know, you're the first person I've talked to in that entire time, other than the Box Ghost. And I keep him sealed up most of the time, obviously, for the good of both my eardrums and the other inhabitants of this house."

"Do you just...float here? Is that how it works?"

"Usually, I guess, yeah." It made a humming noise before continuing. "That, or sometimes I kind of blank out; I did it this morning when we talked, too...I start to think about something, and then when I come back to myself, a lot of time has gone by. Usually just minutes, but it can be hours or even weeks. It helps pass the time. I can leave the house as well, but I haven't in a long while now."

Sam paused thoughtfully, leaning her chin on the hand poking out of the quilt's warmth. She wondered if the ghost was still (or had ever been) sitting on the armchair in front of her. "That's terrible."

"What is?"

"That you've been up here this long." Her voice trembled a little, and she tried to force it down. Instead of being angry at the ghost for occupying her grandmother's house uninvited, she felt kind of sorry for it. There was something in its voice that invited trust, though she still wasn't sure how much she was willing to give. "That you didn't have anyone to talk to. Listen, this may be kind of a personal question, so you don't have to answer...but how did you...die?"

"You've told me enough about you that I'd be happy to answer, but in this case...I really don't remember."

"Don't remember?" It might have been a violent death, she supposed, or maybe there was some complication when you died that prevented you from remembering anything. Sam didn't know if she wanted to pry into it any further. "Sorry...forget I asked, then."

"It's fine."

They sat in silence for another few moments while Sam considered her next words. "Well then. Hey...thanks for talking to me."

The ghost sounded surprised to hear the sentiment. "You're welcome?"

"No...really. I feel a lot better now." It was true, she felt strangely refreshed, as though the outpouring of emotion had cleansed her somewhat. _I guess that's what they say about a heart-to-heart and a good cry. Never really got much of either before._ "And I'm sorry I snapped at you earlier. I was angry, I wasn't thinking...and I guess I didn't really see you as much more than an intruder in my space." She found that even knowing the spirit was young and probably male, she couldn't help thinking of it as an 'it' and not as a 'he'.

"That's all right. For a few minutes there, I was almost thinking of you the same way."

"I guess I can understand that," she said, recognizing the irony. "Now that we've talked, I guess I'm a little more convinced that you're not like the Box Ghost. You act like a human."

"I was human once," it reminded her gently.

"I know." She hesitated. "Sorry."

"Listen," the ghost said quietly, its - no, _his_ - voice absolutely sincere, "if you need someone to listen, I'm not going anywhere. Any time of day, seriously."

"Thank you." Sam frowned, focusing her eyes on the empty chair. "It's pretty weird talking to thin air, though. I'm not sure if I like not knowing where you are or if you're moving around."

"Rebuttal," the voice declared. "You told me not to call you by your name. I thought _that_ was pretty weird."

"I hate my full name. That's different."

"Then...?"

She tipped her head to one side. "I always wanted to be called 'Sam.' If I had friends, I think that's what I'd expect from them."

"Sam. It suits you." The ghost paused. "Fair's fair, then, I guess I need to come out."

Her breath caught in her throat as he materialized in front of her, just where he'd said, seated in the armchair, somehow without disturbing the piece of furniture or the plastic that covered it. Ethereal and just slightly transparent, the ghost had shocking white hair that fell messily in his eyes, a rounded face, and long limbs clad in a black jumpsuit. Sam realized with surprise that he really was just a boy, probably no older than she herself was.

He was leaned forward in the chair with chin propped up in the palm of his hand, eyes closed, as though reluctant to meet hers for the first time. When they opened, though, they were a brilliant shade of emerald green, and seemed to glow in and of themselves. He wore a slight, nervous smile. "Nice to finally meet you. I'm Daniel, but my friends call me Danny."

* * *

_-to be continued..._

A/N: I hope their dialogue sounded as powerful through text as it did in my head. Comments are greatly appreciated!


	4. Legends of Amity Park

I spent my Sunday trying to illustrate a scene from an upcoming chapter of this fic. The results were so abysmal I was almost too depressed to continue writing, but here I am anyway, because this story is devouring my soul. XP I hope I'm not posting these too fast - I've found that when the urge to write calls, I'd better do it, or the story will lose its steam! So, here's chapter 4, despite chapter 3 still being on the second page of stories in the category. u.u;

And, more shout-outs. Hey, why not?

**Soni** - Thank you! Hope you keep reading!

**Kagome M.K**. - As you have wished it, so shall it be...

**Ohka Breynekai **- Thanks! I don't usually do a lot of alternate universe stuff (these days), so it's nice to hear that this attempt is panning out well.

**katiesparks** - Ow, poor Danny. But who says I'm going to pay him for this? XD

**Phantomgirl040304** - Way ahead of you there; Sam was a little more expletive in that scene than I am usually inclined to write her, because she has a lot of pent-up anger and not a lot of ways to express it. She's quite calm now thanks to Danny. (Keep in mind too that this is an alternate universe version of Sam, of course!) Though, I don't usually tend to censor my writing on the basis that someone might stop reading because of a cuss word; I stopped trying to please -everyone- quite a long time ago. Still, thanks for your comments, and I may edit chapter 3 a bit later. :)

**chocolatemercury** - And you're so good about keeping me encouraged! Thanks so much for your kind reviews. :) As for why it's Phantom and not Fenton...all shall be revealed eventually!

**not important** - I'm really glad you think so! Thanks!

**mrit** - Bwahaha. What do you mean by "this type"? XD Danny Phantom? Danny/Sam? Or the super-emo-fest dialogue I've been spitting out?

**Fanficaholic **- Well...I will, then :D

**Ice-Song **- What a coincidence, Giroro's my favourite too. :P _Keroro Gunso_ just seems to me like the kind of manga Sam would find amusing.

**L'ange-sans-Ailes** - Thanks very much, and here you go!

_Thanks again for reading, everyone! Please enjoy chapter 4!_

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 4

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Sam tried to conceal her reaction, both her shock at his appearance - _if he wasn't a ghost, I might have even thought he was attractive _- and revulsion that she could even think such a thing. He was a ghost, he was a _monster_.

But...he _was_ pretty cute.

"You're...so young." she finally managed to say, inspecting him carefully.

"I guess so. Seventeen, or at least I used to be."

"I'm so sorry."

"For what?"

"I don't know." She wasn't entirely certain why she kept apologizing to the spook. "I guess that you died before you got a chance to experience much life."

"You don't need to apologize for that," he told her, tipping his head to one side, still resting his chin in one palm. He blinked, and Sam seemed to experience it in slow motion, the green orbs of his eyes disappearing for a split second before returning to focus on her. She hated to admit it, but they weren't as malevolent and frightening as she might have expected a ghost's eyes to be. "So...do I scare you, or what?"

"What?" Sharply she drew in a breath, sitting up straighter.

"The usual reaction I get is '_Ohmygod, help, it's a ghost!', _you know? At some point I just stopped becoming visible altogether. So do I scare you? Make you want to run away screaming?"

"No, no," she assured him, waving her hands in a negative motion. "It just surprised me. I had pictured you a little more...uh..."

"Horrendous."

"Well...yes."

"See, _that's_ what I don't get." Danny flopped backward in the chair, and to Sam's shock sent a plume of dust flying from underneath his ethereal body. The plastic covering on the armchair rustled slightly. "So I glow a little, and I've got a bit less mass than your average person. But whenever I try to make contact with anyone I always end up being chased down by some ghost hunter. Is it because I can fly? Because I died? Why's there some kind of rule that dictates once you're _dead_ you can't come back?"

"How did you _do_ that? You weren't doing that before." Sam gestured at him with one hand.

"What?" He looked down at himself. "You mean disturbing the furniture?"

"Yeah."

"I could have done that before, but I didn't think you'd appreciate it when I was invisible." He patted the arm of the chair. "All it takes is a tiny bit of concentration for me to become completely solid. I haven't _done_ it in years and years, but I guess it's something we don't forget."

Sam couldn't stop herself from being interested from what ghosts, specifically this one, could do. "So you can fly, too? I noticed you have, uh, legs."

"Optional," Danny replied, and immediately his legs faded into a sort of wispy, translucent tail. After a moment, he made them reappear. "But I prefer them when I'm solid."

"What else can you do?"

"The usual ghostly stuff. Translucency, invisibility, passing through solid objects, wailing - trust me, you _don't_ want to hear that one - releasing energy from my hands, duplication...I can split myself into four separate, realistic Dannys."

"That's really cool," Sam replied honestly.

He blushed. "I'm glad you think so. Like I said, people don't seem to take to me very well."

"Do you ever...try to scare people on purpose?"

"Nah." He turned his gaze to the side and frowned. "I don't really remember the first little while after I died very well...I'm not sure why. I guess once you stack a few dozen years on top of something like that, you start to forget, or maybe it's just something about being a ghost. But I don't think I would have tried to scare anyone. I've been in this attic since before I can remember, and I don't recall what caused me to haunt this place in particular."

"That's so strange." Sam couldn't stop herself from saying so, even though she didn't want Danny to take it the wrong way. "Do you remember anything about your life?"

"Not really," he confessed. "My name, my age...I remember bits and pieces here and there."

"I think I saw a ghost movie like that once," she told him.

"Probably, it's a pretty common thing for stranded spirits to be a little bit messed up in the head. I...don't even know how long I've been dead for. Don't remember what I used to look like, though I recall hating looking in mirrors after I became a ghost."

Sam laughed. "I guess that old myth about ghosts not being able to see their reflections is just that, a myth."

"Isn't that vampires?" Danny laughed too, and it startled Sam how at ease he looked. If it wasn't for that faint glow and the unnatural colour of his eyes, she could easily mistake him for a human. Her heart began to beat a little faster, but she didn't want to admit to herself why that could be. He met her gaze steadily and grinned, causing her to smile in return, and at the same time fight back a furious blush.

"Samantha! Are you up there? Come down, please." Grandma Manson's voice drifted through the hatch, a note of urgency in her tone. The moment broken, Sam leapt to her feet and let the quilt fall back onto the sofa. Danny also stood with an audible sigh.

"Listen," she told him hurriedly, one fist still clenched around the fabric of the blanket. "It was really nice talking to you. You made me feel a lot better, and I really do want to...find out more about you."

Danny shrugged. "Well, I'm not going anywhere."

"Good." She smiled at him, hoping to bring back the happy expression he'd been wearing a moment before. She succeeded - he blushed again and looked at the floor, clasping his hands together behind his back like a shy child. _Am I supposed to find that flattering? Am I losing my mind?_ Sam thought to herself. _He's a ghost, ghost, ghost,_ _ghost ghost ghostghostghost! Come ON, Sam!_

_hope he doesn't think I'm trying to flirt with him._

"So I'll see you again?" he asked hopefully.

"Yeah. I'll come back up and visit next time I get a chance, okay?"

"Okay." He stepped aside as she made her way back to the attic hatch, boots clomping heavily on the thin floorboards. "Don't worry about the light, I'll get it."

"Thank you." She grabbed the railing and walked down the steps until only her head and shoulders were visible from where the ghost was standing.

"No, thank _you_." He paused. "Take care, Sam."

"You too, Danny." She smiled fleetingly and disappeared from his view, touching down on the thick white carpet of the hallway. Above her head, she sensed the light wink out, just as he'd promised. Anticipating her grandmother's voice calling out to her again, Sam quickly hoisted the stairs back up and closed the hatch before heading down to the main floor.

Grandma Manson was in the porch, wrapped in a shawl, holding her purse in both hands. "Oh, there you are, child. I was worried when I realized you weren't in your room."

"Sorry about that," Sam apologized.

"I was just going out to run some errands, would you like to come with me? I'm sure you could use a bit of exercise."

"Sure." Sam pushed her long sleeves back as far as her elbows and shook her hair away from her face. To her dismay, the dust from the attic was thick and very visible on her black clothes. She supposed it would brush or wear off eventually. Pulling the door closed, she followed her grandmother out to the little black car, and got in on the passenger's side.

Ida started the engine and flipped on the air conditioner, but didn't reach for the radio to turn on her favourite easy listening station, which was Sam's first clue that she wasn't just being invited along to get some air. Predictably, as soon as they had backed out of the driveway and were on the road to the shopping plaza, her grandmother brought up the subject Sam was dreading. "How was your discussion with that Penelope woman?"

"Er. I guess it could have been better." Turning her attention to the scenery outside the window, Sam glowered at the mention of her visitor. "She was pretty rude."

"What did you talk about?"

"Mostly just all the terrible things Mom told her about me," Sam replied, but there was no bitterness in her voice this time. For some reason, talking to Danny had calmed her so much that his influence was continuing to keep her rational. "School, social life, mono, all that."

"I called your father after that woman sent me out of the kitchen. He seemed to think that she'd be a great help to you," Grandma said quietly, keeping focused on her driving. "But I heard you crying in your room, when I was on the phone."

"Yeah, Like I said, she wasn't much of a help," Sam replied, still absolutely calm.

"Your father told me she was a psychiatrist."

"She's _what?_" Finally jarred, the teenager tore her gaze away from the window and looked at her grandmother in shock.

Grandma frowned and narrowed her eyes. "She's a high school therapist with a degree in psychiatry. Your mother seems to think that talking to someone who can help you get back on track for September is important for your recovery."

"Well, it's not going to be of any use. There's nothing wrong with my head."

"Yes...while we're on that subject, I wanted to ask you about something." Grandma pursed her lips, not taking her eyes off the road. "Who were you talking to, in the attic?"

Sam's breath caught in her throat. The idea of lying to her grandmother made her sick to her stomach, but if anyone found out about the ghost, he'd be exorcised in a heartbeat...and she'd promised that she would tell no one. Plus, she was becoming more and more willing to admit that she didn't _want_ Danny to leave the house. "Ah...I was on my cell phone."

"Didn't you leave that in your room?"

Her stomach slowly turning to ice, Sam put a hand to the pocket of her black jeans, finding it empty. She _had_ left the phone on her dresser when she'd gone to talk to Penelope. "Uh..."

"It was ringing while you were upstairs," the elderly woman said matter-of-factly. She didn't speak again as she made a right turn into the plaza parking lot, guiding the car into a space directly outside of the market. In the passenger seat, Sam clenched her teeth and looked out the window, feeling that the nervous seconds passing in silence were more like hours. "Well, we'll have to talk about it later. I have to pick up just a few things, so do you mind busying yourself around here?"

"No problem," Sam said, her voice sounding hollow to her own ears. They both disembarked and Ida went into the market, waving at the teen over her shoulder. Sam merely slumped against the car and exhaled heavily. _Stupid, stupid, stupid! You probably hurt her feelings, trying to cover for that ghost!_

But she couldn't just allow something to happen to him. He'd tried to help her, had listened to her outpouring, offered support, given her a blanket and his sympathy despite the fact that her problems were _so insignificant_ compared to his...and as much as she was trying to tell herself otherwise, she wanted to get to know him. Maybe she even _liked_ him.

As a friend, of course.

There was still so much about him that she didn't know, Sam thought, idly wandering away from the car and pausing to look in the window of the nearest shop, a bookstore. The display window was filled with hardcover novels, handmade jewellery and Chinese brocade pillows. In the centre of the arrangement was a collection of literature of all shapes and sizes, proudly heralded on the overhanging sign as the products of 'Local Authors.' Sam turned her back on the display and leaned against the glass, still thinking about Danny. She couldn't shake the feeling that there was something different and special about him, something that set him apart from all those ghosts in campfire stories. Certainly those types of spooks existed, because they had been terrorizing this town for _centuries..._but Danny...Danny was different; he seemed so friendly and human that most of Sam's initial fright and revulsion with him had completely melted away. Still, she wasn't sure how much she trusted him. Wasn't it a proven fact that ghosts were dangerous? He himself had told Sam about all the harmful things he could do, shooting energy from his hands, and that wail he'd mentioned...no matter how much she was inclined to like him, Sam told herself that Danny's motives might not all be harmless. It wouldn't be the first time that a ghost had tricked a human and gained their trust in order to do something mischievous. She couldn't think of any examples of such a thing, but memories of episodes of _Are You Afraid of the Dark?_ reruns from when she was five lingered in the back of her mind. People used to get trapped in mirrors or possessed by paranormal beings on TV all the time when she was young, she remembered.

Sam was also still a bit embarrassed by the reaction Danny's appearance had caused within her. She didn't want to admit that she was even the tiniest bit attracted to the spook, but he'd made her blush, and that wasn't normal for her. Even thinking about the way he had looked when he was leaned forward in that armchair, listening to her speak with seemingly genuine interest, caused Sam's heart to jump a bit.

_Even if he turns out to be harmless, that means nothing,_ Sam told herself, turning to look in the window again. _Nobody dates a ghost. There's no future in that kind of relationship. But...I guess it wouldn't hurt to have him as a friend, at least until I go back to Whipstaff._

A book in the centre of the display suddenly caught her eye, distracting Sam from her thoughts. It was a large tome with a burgundy hardcover, done up to look somewhat like an encyclopaedia. On the front, the words '_Legends of Amity Park'_ were written in scripted gold letters, accompanied by a photo of the sign that stood outside the city limits to welcome visitors.

_I wonder...could that book help me learn about the local hauntings? Maybe Danny's in there somewhere. _Casting a quick glance over her shoulder at the market doors, Sam ducked into the bookstore, wincing at the loud jingling of bells that accompanied the door opening and closing. The place was small and empty of other patrons, obviously a local store, and the grey-haired clerk did not so much as look up as Sam entered. Quietly she made her way around the shelf beside the entrance and went to the non-fiction section, where _Legends of Amity Park _sat on its clear plastic display. She looked around, but no other copies of the book were immediately visible, so she hefted the large volume directly out of the window and sat down on a padded bench beside the sci-fi novels.

Opening the book, Sam could tell immediately that it was just what she was looking for. There was an index on the first page, listing an introduction and several preliminary chapters, as well as a large section called "Ghost Data" that had over three dozen subsections, detailing specific events and hauntings. When she flipped through a few random pages, she recognized names of well-known ghosts from fleeting glimpses of the local newspaper, and to her surprise, even a mention of the Box Ghost. "This is great!" Sam said out loud, thankful that she was carrying a small amount of cash in her pocket. Standing, she brought the volume to the counter and deposited it in front of the clerk. "This one was in the window, is that okay?"

"It's the last one," the woman said in a nasally voice. "That'll be eleven-fifty."

Sam handed her a twenty-dollar-bill and allowed the purchase to be placed in a brown paper bag. She shoved the change in her pocket and left the store with the bag in hand, nodding thanks to the clerk, who was already focusing her attention on her magazine. After the door shut and the sound of the bells muffled, Sam leaned against it, clutching the package to her chest.

_This book...maybe this book can help me understand him._

* * *

-_to be continued_...

A/N: I haven't heard complaints about my spelling yet, but indeed, my writing is peppered with Canadian references and English. Hope no one minds. XP Also clocking in at three _Casper_ references now...I should keep a tally.


	5. Phantom's Fate

If you guys want to hit me for overloading you with this story, I apologize. XD

I very discreetly tried to establish a chronological setting for the fic in this chapter, not because I wanted to (I don't much like writing from a futuristic perspective) but because it was necessary for the book. Hope I don't confuse anyone.

Shout outs.

**not important - **If it makes no sense, then I guess I'm doing something wrong! XD I'm sorry! Hope I can clear some things up instead of just confusing you more...

**Arin Ross **- That's the best kind of reaction I could get, I think! Hope the rest of it continues to make you smile. Tempted to make Sam use an "I'm just composing poetry to myself," excuse...still might!

**L'ange-Sans-Ailes** - As you'll see in this chapter, there are some references to other ghosts, and more to come. :)

**Galateagirl** - Well now, I can't say for sure (heck, until I hit chapter 3 even _I_ wasn't sure!), so you'll have to keep reading!

**Crossover Fiend** - I tell you, I am just _mad_ about _Casper_. The references were Sam's hometown being Whipstaff (the name of Casper's home in the movie), and rather less obviously, the allusion to ghosts forgetting about their former lives, and the chill that follows ethereal Danny around. In the _DP_ canon universe, as far as I know he's not particularly cold, but that aspect of _Casper _was a nice touch that I thought could lend something to Danny and Sam's interaction. I also unabashedly use the term "crossing over" in this chapter, which may have originated elsewhere, but that movie's where I first heard it. ;) As for the rest of your review, thanks, and I'm really glad that you think the characterization is okay. They're different in some ways, but at the core, I wanted them to be recognizable as the Sam and Danny we all know.

**Soni** - Oh, good. Thanks for the compliment and please enjoy chapter 5!

**mrit** - Alas, but you know me too well! I'd like to wear my DP shirt on Friday so we can thoroughly geek out, but I'm cosplaying. XDD

**Kagome M.K**. - Well, okay then. n.n;;

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 5

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Safe in her room at last, Sam sprawled out on her bed in purple pyjama pants and a tank top, opening a soda and placing it on the nightstand. The book had lain on the dresser throughout the evening, inconspicuous in its brown paper bag, and yet Sam had thought about it non-stop since she had arrived home, looking forward to the opportunity to tear it free and discover its secrets. She had a feeling, she _knew_ that the answers she was searching for had to be somewhere in there.

Eagerly Sam unwrapped the package and balled up the paper to throw into the wastebasket before opening to the introduction, which was written in old-fashioned looking serif print. It didn't seem to contain anything relevant to ghosts, though, merely historical information on the founding of Amity, and descriptions of the various political powers throughout the years since the town had been established. Disappointed, Sam flipped further ahead in the book until she came to a section that interested her more:

_**Ghost Research**_

_Despite centuries of research by ghost hunters, historians and journalists, even now it is hardly safe to assume that we really know a significant amount of information about these spooks. Because of their unpredictable nature, once making contact with a ghost, it is still extremely difficult to glean anything remarkable - the ghost may become violent, may be unwilling to provide information, or simply may be too out-of-touch with reality to offer anything of assistance, even if it is willing to do so. _

_What has been discovered, thanks to local research and fieldwork, has assisted greatly in the combat of malevolent ghosts in Amity Park. Difficult though it may be to admit that the spirits were once human, indeed at one point all ghosts seem to have been birthed from a human's passing, usually in the cases of accidental or violent death. A ghost becomes what it is when it has "unfinished business" in our world, often related to family. They are also frequently fixated upon one place or object at first, though this has not been the case with all known Amity hauntings._

_Studies with captured specimens have indicated that with time, many ghosts simply forget what causes them to haunt the human world, and may become completely aimless, eventually devolving completely into purely instinctive, unthinking beings who are prone to lashing out at their surroundings._

Sam's heart stopped. Forgetting why they were still here? This sounded suspiciously like the problem Danny had described. Holding her breath, she read on.

_It is believed that the significant hauntings and events described later in this book also pertain to this theory. Many of the local legends have been circulated for centuries, lending reinforcement to the idea that malevolence in ghosts does not completely emerge until they are decades or even centuries in age, when the items and people that originally tied them to this world are long since deceased or destroyed. Unfortunately, these concepts were not theorized until 1965, when renowned ghost hunters Jack and Madeline (Maddie) Fenton perfected a ghost containment system and were able to interrogate several of the town's most infamous spooks. In 1970, the Haunted Item Protection Act came into effect in order to prevent the destruction of afflicted areas and objects, thereby prolonging a ghost's "harmless" period._

Sam skimmed the rest of the page, looking for more information on the memory loss issue the author had described, but finding nothing. She didn't entirely know what to make of the information; it all seemed very plausible, but she was loathe to admit that Danny's fate was also sealed. He had said that he didn't know when he'd died or why he occupied this house in particular, right? If her house was registered under the Haunted Item Protection Act, she didn't know about it. But then again, Danny had also said that she was the first person he had revealed herself to.

Sighing, Sam moved ahead to the subsections on specific hauntings, trying to locate the story she had glimpsed in the bookstore about the Box Ghost. At well over four hundred pages, the volume was a little difficult to navigate, and the bunched-up print in this dim lighting made Sam's eyes ache. There didn't seem to be any sort of index or way she could locate a specific ghost by name, other than by reading the details of _all_ the recorded scenarios in the second half of the book. Luck was with her, though, because as she flipped through it again, slower this time, the spectre's name leapt out at her from the top of one of the pages.

_**Sightings of the Box Ghost**_

_While the Box Ghost has not been involved with any of the other significant incidents detailed in this section, it was for a time the most-sighted spook in town. Clad in overalls and a toque, its 'skin' has a bluish tinge. It is fairly human in appearance, outside of these traits, and had been haunting Amity Park for an indeterminate amount of time, traditionally within boxes. It is believed that this spirit has an attachment to boxes that has prevented it from following the normal expectancy for ghosts; when the box it is occupying is removed or destroyed, it simply moves on to another. _

_The Box Ghost is notable for being one of the specimens captured by the Fenton family in the mid-1960s, where it was interrogated at length for any information about its kind. Although the spirit was compliant, allegedly because it was being imprisoned in a square container, it was not able to provide any significant data. Instead, it seemed docile and fixated upon its containment, lending more proof to the theory about the loss of a ghosts' self-awareness over time. Unfortunately, the experiments on the Box Ghost were cut short due to a tragedy in the Fenton family (see page 315) and it eventually escaped from containment. It has not been sighted since 1976, when it was last seen in the company of the famous spook Inviso-Bill. _

"That's it?" Sam said out loud, but considering the actions of the attic ghost, she wasn't entirely surprised that it was considered to be somewhat of a small-time player in the town's history. Rubbing her eyes to force away sleepiness, she turned the page, but the next section talked about a different ghost that Sam had never heard of, one named Youngblood. She continued forward in the book until chancing upon a page with the eye-catching headline, **_Attack on Axion Labs._**

_One of the numerous sightings of Inviso-Bill took place at Amity's primary technological research facility, Axion Labs, which stood in the centre of town until its closure in 2008. This particular incident on October 28, 1964 also concerned the animal nicknamed "The Ghost Dog", which disappeared shortly after that time. Reportedly, Inviso-Bill (up until that point classified as a largely harmless spirit) and the dog attacked the Labs in a poltergeist fashion, causing rampant destruction throughout the entire facility. It was speculated later that the dog had been haunting the area for some time, and perhaps might have been the spirit of one of the deceased guard dogs that originally protected the building. It is one of very few obviously nonhuman ghosts to be sighted in Amity and the only one with significant enough information to be indexed. The dog's famous companion Inviso-Bill has been seen in the Axion Labs vicinity numerous times since, though no other paranormal activity within the building has been accredited to it._

Sam frowned and continued turning pages, looking for the sort of profiles as had been written about the Box Ghost, but was unable to find any of relevance. She wished the book had photographs or even illustrations of the ghosts that would help her find one in particular, but had no such luck. Turning back to the index, she scanned the chapter titles for anything significant, but came up with nothing.

_I'm going to have to get more information from Danny if I want to get anywhere with this, _she realized. But Danny was in the cold, stuffy attic, and she was down here, wearing her comfy pyjamas and enjoying the breeze coming through the window. Asking the ghost anything was going to have to wait unless she was less pleasantly warm and tired.

Tomorrow.

Shifting a bit on the bed, Sam yawned and closed the book, letting it drop gently to the floor beside her bed. She turned over onto her stomach and muffled her face in the pillow, blocking out the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Yes, tomorrow seemed like an _excellent_ idea...

* * *

When Sam awoke, it was to the welcoming smell of stewing tomatoes wafting up from the kitchen. Flopping over onto her back, Sam held one palm out to block the irritating sunlight streaming through the window, and used her other hand to alternately cover and rub sleep out of her eyes. The sun was already situated on her side of the house, meaning it was well into the afternoon.

Groaning, Sam rolled off the bed and hit the floor on all fours, almost tempted to stay down there on the carpet, where the obnoxious light could not reach her. But she was lying directly on top of _Legends of Amity Park,_ and the sizable book's corners were jabbing painfully into her abdomen. Sam stumbled to her feet and out of the room, wisely grabbing the handrail to prevent herself from tumbling down the stairs.

In the kitchen, Grandma Manson was at the stove, stirring a pot of something that smelled delicious. Tomatoes in some kind of soup, she thought, and maybe zucchini too. She greatly appreciated the fact that Grandma was willing to cook and eat things that were also acceptable to her ultra-recyclo vegetarian granddaughter. "Morning."

"Afternoon, child," Grandma said with a playful wink. "I thought the smell of food might bring you down."

"You know me too well," Sam laughed.

The elderly woman ladled some soup into a bowl and handed it to Sam, who accepted it gratefully and sat down at the table. A moment later Grandma sat down with her own serving of the broth and both ate eagerly, enjoying the hot meal. "This is excellent," Sam said around a mouthful of zucchini, suddenly very awake after all.

"Thank you, dear. You look like you're feeling a lot better today," her grandmother added, inspecting Sam's face. "Brighter than usual."

"Is that so?" Sam had to admit that she wasn't feeling as lethargic as usual. Maybe the small-town air was having more of an effect on her than she'd realized.

"Absolutely." Grandma smiled, and Sam smiled back, running a hand through her short black hair. "What are your plans for today?"

"Oh...I don't know," the teenager replied thoughtfully. _Other than talking to Danny, I didn't really have much in mind. _

"How about we do something fun today?" her grandmother suggested. "Anything you like. Shopping, sightseeing, dinner...you name it. My treat."

Sam grinned ecstatically. "Really, you mean it? I think the furthest I've been from the house so far is the grocery store!"

"That's exactly what I mean," Grandma laughed. "If you're feeling up to it, we can go out right after I come back from my hair appointment. Okay?"

"Yeah!"

The older woman stood and brought her bowl to the sink, running hot water over it before putting it into the dishwasher. "I shouldn't be gone more than an hour or so, so you use that time to get yourself cleaned up, dear."

"That's fine." Sam also stood and cleared away her bowl and spoon. _That should give me just enough time to get ready and then talk to Danny. Perfect. _As her grandmother left the kitchen, Sam focused her vision on the front lawn as seen through the window, thinking about what to ask that could give her information to look up in the book. Ghost name, if he had one...incidents where he'd been spotted by humans...maybe she could even use the information about the Box Ghost to jar his memory.

She was still standing at the window when Grandma reappeared in the doorway with her purse. "Are you all right, Samantha?"

"Oh...yes, I'm fine," Sam assured her, startled out of her thoughts. "Just looking...outside. Nice day out."

"Ah. Well, I'm heading off now, so I'll see you at three?"

Sam nodded in reply. "Okay, see you then." She waited until the door clicked and she heard the sound of her grandmother's car starting before heading to the bathroom to clean up, a little shocked at how unkempt she looked in the mirror. Running a brush through her hair, Sam made a tiny ponytail at the crown of her head and fastened it with a green clip, as was her usual style at home. Then she returned to her room to change her clothes.

Not wanting to spend so much time getting ready that she wouldn't be able to talk to Danny, Sam pulled on a black t-shirt that slightly showed her midriff and a black skirt with a green crosshatch pattern. She located her purple stockings and accessorized with black wristbands before generously applying eyeliner and a touch of purple lipstick. She then peered into the vanity mirror, satisfied that once again she looked like her old self.

Sam checked her watch as she headed downstairs to put on her boots. _2:15...that's plenty of time._ Glancing out at the empty driveway one last time, she laced up her combats and scuffed them on the rug before proceeding up the stairs and onto the clean white hallway carpet. On the ceiling, the cord attached to the hatch dangled in the air, and she grabbed it and pulled hard, steadying the fold-down stairs with her free hand. The blackness of the attic yawned invitingly.

Unloading the stairs, Sam steadied herself on the handrail and began to climb, reaching for the lightswitch almost before she had gained footing on the third floor. She snapped the old-fashioned switch to one side and let yellowed light fill the expansive room.

No movement. Sam got to her feet and straightened uneasily until her head was just under the low ceiling, worriedly glancing at the Box Ghost's corner, and more than a little relieved to see his silvery crate just where she'd left it. Danny wasn't in sight either, though she hadn't really expected him to be, given what he'd said the day before about staying invisible all the time. She peered into the darkened east end of the room.

"Danny?"

...and no answer. Moving slowly and as quietly as possible, Sam followed the narrow path over to the duct-taped box where she'd imprisoned the other ghost. It was overly warm on this side of the attic, which was out of the ordinary (not that she'd spent _that_ much time up here, Sam thought to herself, but it was the first time that the area over the second-floor bathroom and first-floor kitchen hadn't been _freezing_), and, she quickly realized, evidence that there was no ghost in her immediate vicinity. Weird.

Sam turned around, and spotted something glowing in the corner opposite from where she stood, the area where all the furniture was. Anxiously she made her way back across the attic to the space lit by the window, only to stop short when she approached the place where she had left Danny the day before. There was the wooden kitchen chair, the stout oak table, the armchair and the loveseat...and there was the ghost, facedown on the sofa, solid and unmoving. For a split second, she worried that he might be hurt or dead - but no, that didn't make sense.

Was he _sleeping_? Did ghosts even sleep? Gingerly Sam stepped closer and put a hand on Danny's shoulder, shaking him gently. His body was devoid of heat, though not as icy cold as he'd seemed when he was intangible. She wondered if that was a ghost thing, or just the effect of the sunlight coming through the window, which was significantly clearer and brighter than she remembered it. She shook him again, calling his name.

"Danny? Are you all right?"

Still he didn't move. Steeling herself, Sam took the ghost boy by his shoulders and rolled him onto his back, surprised at how light he was. He definitely weighed _something_, but it wasn't very much. Unfortunately, once she had turned him over, she discovered that it was no easier to tell whether something was wrong with him from this position, because he neither moved nor breathed.

Which, Sam reflected, was probably quite normal for him...but it was still a little freaky for _her_.

She reached out and laid one palm flat on his chest, as if to feel for a heartbeat, deciding to try speaking to him one more time. "Danny, wake up."

He jolted and his eyes flew open, their eerie glow seemingly intensified despite the sunlight on his face. "What!"

"Gaaaah!" Sam leapt back, almost falling over the table. "Holy--!"

"Sam?" Danny was on his feet immediately and caught her outstretched arm. "Whoa, where did you come from?"

"Ah-" Sam steadied herself and shook hair out of her eyes. "_Where?_ I don't know, I came from downstairs? You were facedown on the couch like you were--" She cut herself off before she could say the tactless words. _Dead, or something._ "Asleep."

"Oh. Oh, I did that again." Squeezing his eyes shut - Sam was relieved to see that their brilliant glow had subdued - Danny ran a gloved hand down his face. "I'm sorry, I tend to just space out sometimes - I wonder how long-?"

"No idea. I last saw you yesterday evening," she told him, suddenly very conscious of the way his other hand was curled around her wrist, even though she was no longer in any danger of falling.

"That's not too bad, then." He opened his eyes and looked at her with a sheepish smile.

"I'm pretty sure that sometimes when I do that, I'm out for months. Good thing you came."

"Good thing you were _solid_," she replied, thinking about the things the book had said about ghosts slowly 'losing touch' with reality.

"Yeah, that's still a bit weird for me. I'm not used to doing it for so long at a time anymore...when you leave, I think I'll go intangible again. It's just more comfortable."

"I guess that makes sense."

He looked almost embarrassed, as though he'd admitted something terrible, and changed the subject. "But anyway, look what I've done! Just in case you decided to come up and visit every once in a while."

She followed his gaze to the armchair and noticed that the plastic was gone, neatly folded on the floor between it and the loveseat, which was also uncovered. Both had been draped with blankets. The table, too, had been cleared of dust, as had the floor, and belatedly Sam realized that this was why the sunlight was so much brighter; because the grime had been wiped from the glass. "You've cleaned up the place," she told him.

"Yeah," he admitted with a grin. "You seemed to be having a hard time with the dust, so I got rid of it. Here, have a seat."

"Thank you," she said genuinely, and suddenly his cool hand was on her back, guiding her to the sofa. "Ah-"

"Sorry if I'm cold," Danny apologized, pulling away quickly.

"No, don't worry about it." Sam sat down and arranged the quilt around her shoulders.

"You're not even as cold as you were yesterday."

"I guess because I've been solid all day," he replied, sitting down on the armchair opposite her. "I couldn't even begin to try to speculate on the physics of that, but it probably has something to do with the fact that when I'm intangible or invisible, I displace the air somehow, and it makes it chilly. When I'm solid, I think I kind of soak up the temperature of the air."

She thought about this for a moment, and it didn't really make much sense, but then again, most of this ghost stuff was pretty new and incomprehensible to her. "I see."

He looked away, wearing a sheepish expression. "To be honest, I wasn't really sure if you'd come back. But I'm glad you did."

"Me too."

"Really?" His head shot up and he studied her face, as if looking for some sign that she was deceiving him. "Why?"

"I still want to find out more about you," she replied sincerely. "Actually, I'd wanted to ask some questions, too, because I found this book with a lot of ghost information, and I thought you might be mentioned in it."

"Oh, sure." He leaned forward again and propped his chin up on both hands. "Ask away!"

"All right." Sam shifted her weight so that she was leaning against the armrest of the sofa, the quilt spread out over her lower body. Thankfully it was no longer as cold up here, even with the air conditioner venting on its way down throughout the house. She wished she'd given more thought to the things she wanted to find out about Danny. "First, do you have a ghost name? Like the Box Ghost?"

"Hmm." He tilted his head, expression serious. "I did...I do. It was...what was it...?"

"You don't remember?"

"I kind of do. It was based on my real name, it was Danny-something..."

_Well, that's still more of a clue than I had before,_ Sam thought to herself.

"Phantom!" he said, looking proud and a bit relieved that he'd been able to recall it. "My name is Danny Phantom."

"How inconspicuous," she teased.

"Bah."

She filed that information away in her head and thought about the other topics in _Legends of Amity Park. _"Let's see, that should help, but what else...oh yes, the book I found has a lot of information on specific hauntings and ghost-related events. Were you ever involved with anything like that?"

"If I was, I don't really remember it...I think I must have been at some point, because I can recall the faces of lots of other ghosts, even though I haven't seen anyone but the Box Ghost in decades. Names, faces...but I don't really remember _how_ I know them; what events brought me to meet them. I can't even figure out why I don't remember anything."

"The book said that ghosts often lose track of reality and forget why they were still even in the human world," Sam told him quietly, studying his face for a change in expression. Danny simply _hmm_ed and closed his eyes as though trying to focus. "Do you think that's what's affecting you? It said that as time passes, a ghost becomes less and less tied to what it was haunting."

"What _was_ I haunting?" Danny wondered out loud. "It can't be something _in_ the attic, I'm sure I'd know about that."

"Maybe it's just the attic, or the house itself," Sam said nervously. If he couldn't remember what he was here for, how long would he last before he ended up a destructive poltergeist? She didn't want to think about the idea that he might be a danger after all.

He was alerted to the change in her tone and met her eyes again, searching them with his own. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"I don't believe you."

"Geez," she muttered, a little annoyed at his stubbornness. "I was just thinking about what the book said again."

"Which was?"

"It...insinuated that once a ghost starts losing its memory, that's a sign that it's degenerating. That the other ghosts they studied all became destructive after they lost touch with what they were haunting."

He looked horrified. "All of them?"

"Yeah."

"I...somehow, I knew that," he said quietly, averting his eyes again. "The ghosts in this town aren't exactly friendly. I knew they'd all probably been like me once, and then lost it, taken over by their bitterness...but I never believed it could happen to me."

"Why not?"

"I don't know. I just...wasn't like them; I never got my kicks from terrorizing children or attacking old ladies. I was never vengeful."

_But they say that vengefulness is one of those things that comes with age, for a ghost,_ Sam thought, though she dared not say it aloud. Danny already looked extremely distressed to the point where he was slightly translucent, as though he could not concentrate enough to keep up the appearance of solidity. "I understand. You're not a typical ghost."

He looked at her, expression pained. "Sam, please believe me when I say I would never do anything to hurt you or your family. I'm not dangerous, and I never will be, even if my memory fades."

She nodded. "I believe you. I promise." But at the back of her mind, doubt still lingered, as though her common sense was trying to insist that even if Danny didn't _want_ to be dangerous, that didn't mean he never _would_. Even if it was far beyond her lifetime, he could still become just another wandering spook, and put the occupants in this house in mortal peril. But she found that the mere thought of such a thing filled her with dread, and she pushed it away, instead focusing on calming Danny down. "Listen, don't freak out about it. Knowing that these things happened to other ghosts may even _prevent _you from becoming like them, right? Maybe if we can jog your memories, we can put an end to those worries. If you know what you're here for and keep on it, you'll be safe, or you might even cross over."

"Cross over?"

"You know...leave the human world, go on to a better place or whatever you believe in. I thought that once a ghost came to terms with itself, it could pass on peacefully."

"I don't know, maybe you're right," Danny replied. "Not all people become ghosts, so I guess they have to go _somewhere_. And...you'll help me?"

"Of course!" she assured him with a smile. "I'll do my best. I know it may sound weird...because of what you are, and we've only known each other for a few days...but I really want to get to know you, and help you if I can."

"You're a really great friend." he told her, making her heart jump. His smile was back and so luminous - figuratively - that she almost forgot again that he was a ghost, that he still very possibly a danger, and even if not, that he was probably going to be gone out of her life before she ever had the chance to appreciate him. But when he smiled, she couldn't think about anything else other than how making him happy made her happy too.

"Thanks...I guess it sounds kinda dorky to say it, but I'm glad you think so. I don't really have many friends."

"We're even."

She laughed loudly, nervously, and hoped he couldn't see the redness in her cheeks. _Unbelievable...my first real friend turns out to be an apparition. My parents would hit the roof._

"Samantha...?"

Jolted, she came back to reality just in time to see a head and shoulders appear in the entrance. "Grandma!"

In an instant, Danny was gone, and the armchair appeared empty. Worriedly, Sam tried to backtrack the last few moments of conversation, wondering if the elderly woman had heard anything, barely aware of own response. "What are you doing up here? You shouldn't be climbing those stairs!"

"I was worried when I couldn't find you, dear." There was evident concern in Ida's face, and Sam's stomach felt like it was being slowly filled with lead. "I'm home a bit early."

"Oh, well," Sam got to her feet, glancing one last time at Danny's chair. "I just came up here to straighten up a bit, you know, dust and clean, because it's so messy..."

"I see...are you ready to go out, then?"

"Oh, yeah," the teenager said hurriedly. "Absolutely. I can...finish this later." She left the quilt in a pile on the sofa, nervously running both hands through her hair. Around her, the temperature of the air had dropped slightly, and as she approached the stairs she felt a wisp of something on her shoulder, and a quiet voice in her ear.

"_I'm sorry. We'll talk later?_"

Sam could only nod in reply. With attention focused elsewhere, she shivered at the strange sensation of Danny's ethereal hand on her, unable to see him as he winced at the reaction and sharply withdraw, wishing suddenly that he were anything but himself.

* * *

_-to be continued..._

A/N: Oh, Danny! ;o;


	6. Meet At Midnight

OK, I admit, I'm a loser and I was reloading my email yesterday every 15 minutes in hopes of seeing a new review alert pop up. XD All your comments are so wonderful and inspiring!

It's so strange; this story is getting written everywhere. I've taken to carrying a pen and paper with me at all times because I keep coming up with random little bits of dialogue and plot points, and scribbling them on the nearest surface I can find. Not limited to textbooks, LiveJournal entries, course outlines, invoices, bedroom walls, and once in a while I manage to write them in my notebook, even. I've woken up spontaeneously at 5 a.m. to write out a piece of a scene that just popped into my head and would surely be gone by morning.

I'm beginning to think I'm starting to lose it. XD Haven't thrown myself into my writing in _quite_ some time now.

In any case, thank you guys so much for keeping with me, and please enjoy chapter 6! This one is a little shorter than the last because I wanted to conclude on Danny's POV, and also quite frankly, five thousand words in a night like what I did yesterday is pushing it, even for me. XD

**L'ange-Sans-Ailes** - Thanks and take care!

**enigmatic penguin** - Don't worry, I'm extremely prone to only commenting on the most recently updated chapter of something, mostly because I'm in such a hurry to discover what'll happen next! Thanks so much for your compliments, I was indeed bursting with pride (ego x 10000!) after reading your pleasantly lengthy review, and it put me immediately in the mood to continue. If I can comfortably fit other characters into the story (though after this chapter you'll definitely be sure who my recurring ghost is) I probably will, if not then they'll be mentioned in _Legends of Amity Park_, when Sam and Danny do their detective work in the next chapter. Thanks for pointing out the typo, too; I'll fix that in the final edit!

**mrit** - You know I would be _delighted_ to hear what you're speculating, because ya know, it just might fit nicely into the story. XD There are clues EVERYWHERE, but the one thing I haven't hinted at at all is a really big thing...I'm sure it's going to be totally unexpected. I hope I can find some way to forshadow it a bit before I hit the climactic chapter. ;

**dArkliTe-sPirit** - References all over the place! Unfortunately the tragedy is not the same as in TUE. ;) So far the only eps I've directly referenced or planned to are from _My Brother's Keeper _and _Shades of Grey. _I'm trying not to make references to episodes that heavily involve Sam, for obvious reasons (there's no DP on this Danny's jumpsuit, for instance!), though I've been throwing in stuff from miscellaeneous other eps, so who knows?

**Epyon Zero** - The "relive love with a new generation" idea actually crossed my mind at one point. I also considered making "Sam" the granddaughter of the original, when I was trying to plot out an ending to this. But in the end I just went with my first instinctive idea, which is...wait, I can't say. XD Harhar. Glad you like, though!

**Ohka Breynekai** - You're forgiven; I'm kinda throwing these all out at once here. :P I'm sure you can imagine how much sleep I've been getting (or should I say _not_ getting). Thanks!

**chocolatemercury** - Three updates in three days, now. XD I realize the dates are a tad confusing, the reasoning is that I wanted to put a _significant_ number of decades between Danny's time and Sam's (long enough to eliminate the witnesses, to be honest), but not put him so far back that he's in the technological Dark Ages. I wanted to portray Amity in Danny's time as old-fashioned, but not so much that I can't, uh, kill him off in the way I intend. ; In order to get that effect I had to push Sam forward by a few years, and so Sam's book was written in _approximately_ 2015, and I haven't decided on a solid year for the story to take place in, but safe to say it's around the 2020s. Yes, I threw the flying car concept seen in _The Ultimate Enemy's _2015 right out the window. I've messed with the canon enough already that hopefully no one will notice or care. XD

**Kagome M.K**. - I will indeed!

**Soni** - I don't mind a bit of impatience so long as you're enjoying the story! Hopefully I can keep on top of this updating schedule despite all my school stuff this week. ;

**katiesparks** - Danny's in such denial. But it's true! He really likes her, and he can't hide it, hee hee!

**Arin Ross** - Oops, too late, poor Sam. XD

Estrelas

Chapter 6

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Sam glared sullenly at the table, turning a pencil over in her long fingers. She avoided the therapist's gaze by inspecting her freshly painted violet nails, three coats applied while trying to ease the long wait between reveille and firing squad.

"Why do you think I'm here, Samantha?" Penelope asked cheerfully. Her tone was so condescending that Sam had to resist the urge to lunge across the table and wrap her hands around the woman's throat.

"You're here because my parents think I'm insane," Sam muttered in reply.

"Oh no, hon, they're just trying to help you," Penelope insisted, assuming a pained expression. "Your poor mother is just _so_ concerned."

"Yeah, imagine the social consequences of having a daughter in the mental," Sam shot back, causing Penelope's smile to falter slightly. Sam couldn't explain why the mere sight of the woman drove her to open hostility - she had barely spent two minutes in the therapist's company and already would have preferred a week with her stuck-up classmates back home.

"You're such an angry little girl," Penelope told her, as if she was five years old. "Why is that, Samantha? All these years of rage, this can't be healthy. Isn't that why you've been talking to your imaginary friends so much?"

"I don't have any imaginary friends," Sam retorted. "I just like to talk out loud, that's all."

"That's right...you said you didn't have any friends at all, isn't that true?"

That was not at all what Sam had meant, but if it moved Penelope away from the subject of her attic meetings, so be it. "Yes."

"You poor dear, you really are all alone in this world." The woman clucked her tongue. "I suppose maybe what your mother suggested to me was the best course of action after all."

"Do I even want to know?" Sam sighed.

"She thought maybe you and I could have one of these nice little sessions every week, until we have all your problems out in the open. Wouldn't that be lovely?"

_No._ "I don't have any problems."

"Of course you do. You'd hate for these troubles to keep coming up all your life, wouldn't you? Imagine being alone forever...imagine finishing high school with your dismal grades, and graduating only to live off your parents good fortune, without any friends or lovers. Imagine dying an old maid...maybe even in 'the mental', as you so eloquently put it. Is that what you want for your life, Samantha?"

"I wish you'd stop saying my name so often. You know it bothers me."

"Oh, I know." Penelope smiled gleefully. "You can't escape from all your problems, dear! People like me will always be around to try and set you right, so you ought to get used to it."

Sam looked away, her expression murderous.

"Anger, of course, is how humans best conceal despair," the woman told her matter-of-factly, looking down at Sam over the rims of her purple sunglasses. "You can't fool me. I know that inside you, there's a little girl who's crying out to be accepted and loved...who wants real friends, and to have a future with a boy you love, living in a beautiful house."

"You obviously don't know me at all," Sam said dryly, for Penelope seemed to be painting a very white-picket-fence kind of fantasy, which wasn't exactly Sam's style.

"Can you look me in the eye and tell me you're happy?" the therapist prodded gently.

Of course, Sam could not. For every falsehood that Penelope assumed, there was a truth lurking close by. She _did_ want a successful career, and to follow her dreams to make a difference in the world. She _did _want to have true friends who'd be there when she was feeling down. And...

...and Sam's next thought was cut short as a slight chill swept throughout the kitchen, causing her to sit up straight, wide-eyed. _There's a ghost in the room._

Danny? Or something else? Sam didn't know for sure. Worried, she put her palms on the table and stood up, locking gazes with the therapist. "Listen, I appreciate that you're trying to help me, but I don't need it. I told you last time to stop prying, and I'm not going to suddenly open up to you now. Please just leave - I'm not going to talk about this any more. I'm going to my room." Turning her back on Penelope, Sam left the kitchen and sprinted up the steps to the guest bedroom, slamming the door closed behind her. "...Danny?"

A moment later the cold sensation followed her in, confirming Sam's suspicions. He reformed by the dresser in a translucent but visible form, a fluctuating wisp in place of his lower body. "Are you all right? I sensed another ghost nearby..."

"Huh?" She blinked and sat down on the bed. "I haven't seen any ghosts until now."

He frowned. "But my ghost sense went off..._some_ spirit was close to the house. I'm sorry, I didn't realize you had company, lucky thing I went down invisible..."

"No, don't worry about it." She waved away his apology. "I didn't want to talk to that woman anyway. She's the psychiatrist I told you about."

"Oh...I didn't think she'd be back."

"Neither did I." Sam grimaced." After the last time Grandma caught me in the attic, she told my parents that she was worried about me. My mother called Penelope and begged her to come back and talk to me again."

"So that's why you haven't come up to see me in the past few days." Danny frowned. "I'm really sorry about all this, Sam. I'm causing a lot of trouble for you."

"No big deal, just another thing on the list of stuff my parents would rather keep quiet," the Goth said airily.

"That's not really a _good_ thing."

"No," she laughed, "but it isn't out of the ordinary. Besides, I don't really care what other people think about me. Penelope thinks I'm crazy. Who cares? As long as _I_ know I'm not, what's it matter what she thinks?"

"I guess so..."

"Listen, though," she told him seriously. "You can't stay down here, or Grandma or someone else might hear you, and that'd be about seventeen more kinds of trouble. How about I meet you in the attic this evening, once she's asleep?"

"Okay," Danny agreed.

"I'll do some more reading from my book and bring it up with me. Maybe we can find something about you in there. All right?"

"Yeah." He paused and gave her a little wave, drifting up towards the ceiling. "See you tonight!"

"Wait," she instructed, extending a hand. "You're going up through there?"

"Sure. Do I look like the kind of guy who takes the stairs?" He gestured at his astral body with a devilish grin.

"Can you...make other people go through walls, too?" An idea lurked at the back of her head. How better to sneak out of the room unheard, and climb into the attic without the rickety creak of the hatch?

"You want me to fly you through the ceiling?"

"If you can."

"I can, yeah." She couldn't quite read his expression, but his mouth twitched as though he was trying not to smile. "What time shall I pick you up, milady?"

Sam's heart beat a little faster. "Ah, that is...how does midnight sound to you?"

"I'll be there on the hour." He bowed in mid-air and vanished through the ceiling, leaving her standing below with mouth open, slightly dazed. He _was_ flirting with her...wasn't he?

_I shouldn't even entertain the idea. Then again, who knows what rejection could do to a ghost? _Sighing, Sam flopped down on her bed, staring up at the light fixture. She wondered how long he'd been in the kitchen with her and Penelope; what he'd heard. She was tempted to be angry at him for coming downstairs where there'd be more risk of blowing his cover, but he'd looked so concerned for her...

_He sensed a ghost._ She supposed that was some sort of thing ghosts did, identify each other by presence, or something. And yet there'd be no attack, no spook around save for him, and maybe the Box Ghost. Could that guy have escaped? Sam wasn't sure, but it seemed reasonable that Danny would have caught him again if he had. Maybe a spirit had been just floating by on its way elsewhere and caused Danny to panic. It was kind of sweet of the guy to rush down and check on her. She thought she might be blushing, but didn't want to check the mirror, just in case it was true.

* * *

In the late evening, Sam again retired to her room to do more reading on _Legends of Amity Park,_ after a lonesome dinner of salad. Grandma Manson had gone to a card game with her friends, and had only recently returned, (predictably) opening Sam's door to check on her. At that point, the teenager was two hundred pages into the volume, and extremely sleepy. By the time the clock in the hallway struck twelve, Sam was completely unconscious, enjoying a dreamless sleep.

When Danny snuck a peek through the ceiling at 11:59 to see if she was ready, he found her curled up on top of the covers, one hand on the open book, the other trapped beneath her head, as though she had been propping herself up on one elbow, and only succumbed in sleep. Some ebony hair had fallen across her cheek, hiding her face from view.

If the phantom had a beating heart, it would have skipped from merely looking at Sam. Her features were more relaxed than in waking, and he took a moment to study her in the moonlight that spilled through the window, casting shadows from the trees across her still form. _She really is so beautiful. I'm lucky to have met her._

_It would have been nicer to meet her while I was alive._

Danny descended and touched down on the floor with two legs, absolutely silent, but still hesitant as he studied the girl on the bed. What would he do when she left? He had a feeling that he had been in such a situation before, though his foggy memory could not produce a specific example of such a thing happening. _Did I know someone like her in my life? Or is it just that now that I know her, I don't want to lose her, like I lost..._

_Them. _Who was "them?" It frustrated Danny to no end that he could not remember, now that he had a reason to. There was a faint recollection of old feelings and worries, but the memory was not just _difficult _to dredge up, it seemed to be _gone_. It seemed to Danny as though he had only existed for a few short years before this week - but of course that couldn't be true.

Pushing his concerns aside, Danny approached the bed and floated up above it, reaching out a hand to touch Sam's shoulder. He hesitated briefly here, not only afraid of how she might react to his cold touch, but hating to disturb her from her rest. Instead, he returned to the ground and turned solid, seating himself against the wall beside her bed, and waited there for his form to come to room temperature.

Sam slept on, and Danny watched her, smiling. _She still reminds me of...something. Maybe what it was like to be human...if I ever really was._

He shook his head to himself. _I had to have been human; all ghosts supposedly were. I just wish I could remember it...remember what's keeping me tied here. I don't understand why I didn't pass on...is there something I still need to do? Some task from my former life? _He closed his brilliant eyes and just thought, trying to organize all the feelings and fleeting moments of memory he still possessed. There had to be something there...some recollection that could tell him why he still roamed the human plane, and what he had stayed behind for.

He withdrew into thought, then, losing a bit of the appearance of solidity, and remained there until well into the night.

* * *

_-to be continued..._


	7. Gravity

Oh snap, we have a blooming romance! This chapter is one I've been desperately looking forward to writing. A good friend of mine is even going to illustrate a scene from it! -bubbles over with excitement- In fact, I prolonged starting it, just because I didn't want to mess up all these important things I wanted to say, but I realized that if I didn't just take a breath and move forward, it was going to lose some of its magic. So...here it is. Enjoy!

This time, I'm responding directly to the reviews that I thought needed an answer, and just giving a general shout-out to the rest, so that I don't have to get redundant/take up a ton of space up here! I can assure you that I'm still thrilled to read every comment you guys make, and I appreciate knowing what you think!

**Epyon Zero** - Oh, well, I guess the first ten seconds of this chapter will be enough to cement _that_ particular impression! I take it you haven't seen either of the episodes Penelope appears in the series? XD

**Crossover Fiend** - Well said. :) I guess we'll just have to hold on and see where this link takes us!

**mrit **- I believe know the _exact_ reference you mean, and I feel I still referenced it simply by so obviously leaving it out. XD Provided you are referring to "Casper, close the window, it's cold." and/or the scene directly around it. Well, he really _wanted_ to touch her, but he knew she'd react that way, and it stung him. Poor Danny!

**L'ange-Sans-Ailes** - Sorry, can't say!

**chocolatemercury** - I'm all for that fantasy, too. I'm such a D x S shipper now, it's not even funny. u.u;

**dArkliTe-sPirit** - All will be revealed! ...in some other chapter! XP

**not important** - I guess this constitutes as an "evil cliffie," and I'm sorry, because I got your review just before I put it up! I hope you like it anyway! n.n;

Many thanks also to **Galateagirl, katiesparks, Soni, Anomaly25, conan98002, Kagome M.K, **and **Fanficaholic** for their kind reviews! Every one of you guys is a part of keeping this story going!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 6

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

"I'm telling you, that Manson girl is all the energy I'll need for the whole damn summer." Penelope inspected her face in the hand mirror, admiring her cheekbones. "She's absolutely _full_ of negativity!"

"Have you managed to gain any power over the girl, or are you just sucking her dry?" Bertrand wondered out loud. The squat little man was the therapist's assistant, though lately there had been very little to assist her _with_. The season had been difficult for them each and every year since they had started working at Amity Park High.

"Just taking what I can before she throws me out," Penelope remarked with a frown. "But after a few more meetings with her, I'm sure I'll have a bit more control."

"You think she'll allow it?"

"She'll have to," Penelope said airily. "As long as I keep calling her mother and telling Liza what a terrible state the poor girl is in, her parents will be _begging_ me to come back. It's pure luck that her grandmother caught her talking to her imaginary friends - I'm sure everyone in her family thinks she's a nutcase."

"Is she?"

"Who knows? She insisted that she was some kind of creepy Goth poet, 'expressing her sorrow aloud'. Don't know if I believe it, but who cares?"

"She could have been talking to a ghost."

Penelope waved away the idea. "And saying what to it? You know their kind don't get along with ours. Besides, if there was anything haunting the place, I'm sure we'd all know about it."

"But you know how spirits just vanish sometimes. Are you sure you don't want me to come with you, next time? I _do_ have a ghost sense, and you don't."

Penelope closed her compact. "I don't need to have a sense to identify a ghost, _Bertrand_. I think _you're_ just bored and looking for something to keep you occupied. Go terrorize some children, if you don't know what to do with yourself."

"It was just an offer," Bertrand said sourly.

"You never miss a chance to remind me of your talents," the therapist replied. "Well, let me remind you that I have plenty of my own, and I'm still developing my powers. Ah! Who knows what limitless potential I might have? Already I'm stronger than most other ghosts my age; have you ever seen anyone else pass for a human so well?"

"Other than myself, no."

"You're a shape shifter, idiot, that doesn't count." Penelope smoothed back a stray lock of her red hair and drifted up to lounge about a metre above the floor, turning over onto her back and shifting into her ghost form, which was completely black, except for the features of her face. "Oh, I do hope Liza will call tomorrow. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have two doses of Samantha's energy in two days? She's like a _drug._"

Her assistant smiled mischievously. "As long as you share some."

"Well, of course, my dear Bertrand." The spectral psychiatrist closed her eyes and stretched. "You certainly could use a facelift."

* * *

Sam drifted into consciousness as she heard the old grandfather clock chime five times, quite audible from the hallway even behind her closed door. It alerted them on the hour, but it had been years since the sound had intruded upon her sleep, becoming just a part of the night activity that wasn't worth waking up for. Even before opening her eyes, though, Sam found herself very alert, moreso when she began to get the feeling that there was someone in her room. And that someone was making the air temperature hang far below normal.

Her vision swam into focus, directed at the wall with the window, where the moon was no longer visible from this side of the house, and yet there was a faint glow casting light onto the carpet beneath the window. Sam raised herself up on her elbow and peered down over the side of the bed, immediately discovering the source of the light - there was Danny, half-tangible, asleep against the wall. His features were relaxed and serene, and she noticed with some bemusement that she could see the green glow of his eyes right through his eyelids.

_I must have fallen asleep,_ Sam realized, _and Danny came looking for me._ She guessed that he hadn't wanted to wake her, but it wasn't exactly sensible for him to stay downstairs where he could have been discovered easily. She thought, perhaps, that he had sat down for whatever reason, and accidentally spaced out.

She watched him for a few moments, still a bit stunned at his ghostly appearance. He seemed to be in kind of an in-transit form, quite visible to her and seemingly solid (he had not yet fallen through the wall or floor), but also a little translucent; she could see the pattern of the wallpaper right through his jumpsuit, and his skin was so pale. The glow that had surrounded him in his completely solid form was slightly more intense as well. _Could this be his "ghostly" appearance? He never looked like this before. But then, he said that he was uncomfortable staying in his human-looking form for so long at a time these days, so maybe this is what's more natural for him._

He looked like a child caught in a game of hide-and-seek, knees drawn up close to his body and hunched forward, with arms draped over his legs. His head nodded a bit to one side, pitched forward only slightly. Sam wondered how gravity affected ghosts; how it must feel to be so out-of-touch with the earth, and what it was like to fly. She hoped she would still have the chance to become weightless herself, not just for the experience, but because she wanted to feel as he felt as he hovered above the ground. _It must be so strange._ _I can't imagine living like he does...not only physically, but emotionally. To have everyone hate me simply for existing, to have to hide to stay 'alive', faced with fear and dread whenever I intervene, even trying to help..._

_Even I treated Danny like that, at first. Like he was some kind of monster._

Sam's stomach churned. How could she have thought like that? Looking at him, sitting so peacefully, she couldn't bring herself to believe that he could ever harm anyone. _That's why it's important that I help_, she told herself. _I can help prevent anything like that from happening. Crossing over is what's best for him; if he's not stranded on the human plane anymore, he doesn't need to worry about being hunted or ridiculed...even if there's no life beyond this one, he'll be at peace. _And yet it frightened Sam that she could lose her only friend at any time; any moment when they discovered his secrets could be the last she would ever spend with him. She didn't know if she was ready to give him up just yet - there was so much she wanted to talk about with him.

_But I have to let him go, for his own good and everyone else's_, Sam's conscience protested. _I couldn't wish a life like his on my worst enemy, so I certainly don't want it for a...friend._

Inspired by the moment, she reached out her left hand and caught his, this time prepared for the slight jolt of cold that shocked her fingers and shot up her arm. _This is fine,_ she told herself, _I'm not exactly a 'summer heat' kind of girl. This isn't so bad._

She was also prepared for a reaction from Danny like the last time she had suddenly awoken him (if 'sleeping' was what you could call this action), but to her surprise he did not jump or even immediately stir, instead keeping quite still, until finally he slowly opened his eyes and looked at her curiously. "Sam."

"Hi there," she said hesitantly. "Sorry I overslept."

"Oh...no problem. I was just thinking, I guess I got caught up in it again."

"No worries." Sam sensed the tension in the air, as though Danny was not sure what to do or say about her hand, which hadn't moved from his yet. To be honest, _she_ wasn't even sure what to say. It was like...an unspoken agreement. _I accept you._

What she didn't know was that Danny had felt guilty and insecure about her reactions to his ghostly touch, and to him, it made this message even more sincere. _She's holding my hand. What does that mean? I wish I knew what she was thinking. I wish I knew what to do. I was human for seventeen years, I must have had _some _experience with females in all that time!_

But nothing he could recall. He supposed he knew how to act when trying not to make a girl hate his guts, but he didn't have any memory of past experience to fall back on. _What should I do? _

He was rising to his feet - no, above them, as his legs faded out and were replaced with his wispy tail - suddenly, and Sam withdrew her hand, giving him a quizzical look. "Danny?"

"Listen, I - I'm sorry for what I am. I wish it didn't have to be this way."

She sat up straight, her arm half-extended towards him, palm out but fingers relaxed. "I wasn't criticizing you for it."

"No," he whispered, "you weren't. But I was."

And he drifted forward and kissed her, chaste, on the lips. Sam's eyes widened and a chill shot through her from the contact of his ethereal form against her skin; his hand reached up to brush against her cheek, but she did not flinch, could not even dream of pulling away. She closed her eyes and tilted her chin up just slightly as though to acknowledge she contact, and then -

And then, she felt him pull back, and when she opened her eyes he was gone.

* * *

-_to be continued_

A/N: Cliffhanger-tastic! Thanks to my friend Neko-chan (Neko-Salosa) for helping me decide whether or not I should just leave you guys hanging there. XP

Check my profile for the illustration mentioned in the earlier Author's Note!


	8. The Fenton Tragedy

I had trouble with this chapter, especially since the kiss scene was like...THE scene I started this fic aiming for. XD Sure, there's more to the story, but it's hard to follow _that_! Plus, I had to write more book entries, which take a lot more thought and time than the action/emotion scenes do, kekeke.

...and, I am DYING to see the latest episode; it aired in the U.S. yesterday (Friday), and probably won't air in Canada for months. I haven't been able to lay hands on a recording yet; hoping to do so by tomorrow, but the suspense is literally killing me because my online friends were so bowled over by it. Can it top 80s Danny in _Masters of All Time? _(which was fantastic beyond words, I've re-watched it like four times now. XD) Well, don't spoil me, but expect a happy or sad rant in my author's notes next time, hehe!

Shout outs...!

**not important** - Coffee entirely fuelled _this_ one.

**mrit** - I hope you still enjoy it even if you know the ending now. XDD

**Epyon Zero** - Fortunately for Casper, Kat didn't run away after _they _kissed. I feel pretty bad for Sam here. XP

**L'ange-Sans-Ailes** - Well, I guess you called it, didn't you!

**Soni** - Thanks so much, it's sweet of you to say that! Fortunately, I had my last day of classes yesterday, so in amid exams and term papers I should have lots of time to devote to writing.

**dArkliTe-sPirit** - Hehe, Spectra's actually my second-favourite villain, evil though she may be! I just love to hate her. o/

**katiesparks** - I'm sorry? n.n;

**enigmatic penguin** - My, what a wonderful idea! Personally, I'm a big fan of being warm (heat in my room's turned on 25 degrees Celsius right now!), but having a ghost around sure would help save on the air conditioning later. And you're right about going through walls; once I eventually get Sam turned intangible (it'll happen eventually!) I want to describe what I think the sensation will feel like. Also...my ego just inflated so much that it carried me away. ;) Thanks for your wonderful comments!

Thanks so much to **Lost Demon Soul, conan98002, Ice-Song, Galateagirl, Kagome M.K, Fanficaholic** and **Ohka Breynekai** for reviewing as well. (Still trying to cut down the size of my author-blabber up here, but you know I appreciate you all!) Please enjoy Chapter 8 and stay tuned for more! n.n

Estrelas

Chapter 8

_by Shimegami-chan_

_

* * *

_

He shot up through the thin attic flooring, fists clenched, sure that if he could breathe he would be gasping for air. His chest heaved in response, constricting painfully, so that when Danny finally halted his flight about a metre above the boards, he became solid and allowed gravity to take him, dropping him onto all fours on the unsanded cedar. _What was I _thinking? _I shouldn't have done that..._

He huddled on his knees, running a shaking hand through snow-white hair. _Do I really want to act on these feelings? She's alive and beautiful. Even if I could somehow make her like me as...more than a friend...I'm still a ghost. I'd watch her grow into an adult while I stayed the same forever, and then--_

He was near-overwhelmed with dread, and thought to himself, _there must be something I've forgotten, something from my human life...I'm sure I've had this dilemma before. If I could just remember...I could prevent that...whatever it was...from happening again..._

But he couldn't take back the kiss, or the feelings that accompanied it. He wondered how Sam had reacted after she had a moment to take in what just happened. Maybe she was even angry at him for doing it (_but she didn't pull away!_ another part of him cried triumphantly) and wouldn't want to speak to him anymore. _Maybe we'd be better off that way. _

Danny glanced up as the attic hatch creaked open slowly. _Sam. _Without thinking, he retreated to the northeast corner of the room, as far from the stairs as he could, and concealed himself behind a pile of boxes. If he stayed solid, Danny thought to himself, maybe she wouldn't be able to use the temperature of the air to find him.

"I know you're up here," she said simply, flipping on the light switch. "Please come out."

He didn't answer, still trying to sort out the thoughts screaming through his head. He knew how it would be. He'd watch her grow up, grow old, and eventually die. He supposed that if _she_ eventually became a ghost too, it wouldn't be so much of an issue, but then again such things were completely hit-and-miss. She could cross over immediately, or even become a malevolent ghost. He'd hate to see that happen to her. _I can't let this go any further, no matter how much I want to. Is it even safe to just try to be her friend? The more I get to know her, the more sure I am that she's the best thing to happen to me. Sam..._

_Sam._ He mouthed the word, not daring to give away his position by saying it aloud.

Over by the furniture corner, he could hear her moving quietly about, trying to find him. "I don't know why you're hiding. What's so wrong with me that you had to run away?"

He froze. Was she trying to coax him out with that, or did she really feel it? Sam wasn't the kind of girl to beat up on herself; she obviously paid little attention to those trying to bring down her self-esteem, and purposefully dressed in a way she knew made her stand out. But then, Danny thought, he didn't think he was fit to judge how she might react to something like this, having only known her for such a short time.

"Danny, please."

He sighed and stood up, drawing her attention with the movement. "I'm here."

Expression stormy, Sam turned and made her way across the attic, crossing her arms over her chest when she arrived. "I'm _that_ bad of a kisser?"

"No, it's not that," he said desperately, trying to think of a way to explain what he was thinking without actually saying it.

"What, then?"

He frowned and crossed his arms as well, defensively. "It isn't right for you to do something like that with a ghost."

"You just spent a week convincing me how much humanity you had left, and now you want me to turn around and decide that you're dangerous after all?"

Danny flinched visibly. "This isn't about how human I may _seem._ In the end, whether I like it or not, I'm a ghost and I can't change that. What am I supposed to do if I keep--" he paused and breathed deeply in response, without actually taking in air, "--falling for you?"

"What do you mean? What's wrong with it?" He could tell from the expression on her face that she already knew.

"For one thing? I'm a freak. Society hates me, and you have enough difficulty dealing with your parents to throw a _ghost boyfriend_ into the mix. Two, I..." He hesitated. "I don't know what's happening to me with this memory thing. Who knows how or if it'll end? And third...I just...I don't think you deserve something like this. I can't go out in public, I can't do things like have a job, go to school, or _age_ for that matter--" He broke off, holding back explaining his fears about having to watch her grow up while he stayed the same forever.

"I don't care about those things," Sam said softly, her frown deepening. "You think _I_ discriminate based on looks?"

"No, but even you care sometimes about what people think of you."

"Danny, it wouldn't matter!" she protested, suddenly so intent on convincing him that she forgot all her doubts. "If I-felt that way about you, about anyone--and who knows what could happen with time?--I'd do anything to make it work! Who cares what other people think? I'd live in a shack in the wilderness if I thought I could be with someone who'd make me happy."

"You'd throw your life away for me?"

"I didn't say that." She looked off to the side, breaking her gaze away from his intent stare. "I'm just saying that I don't ditch people based on what they look like or what other people think. I don't even know if I want or can handle a relationship with you that's more than friends, to be honest, but I don't think that we should go our separate ways over this kind of thing."

"You really are optimistic under that frown," Danny told her, fears only slightly assuaged. He still didn't really think that getting more involved with Sam was a _good_ idea, but it wasn't nearly as frightening as it had seemed five minutes ago. When it came down to it, there was no denying that he had very real feelings for her.

Sam lifted her head. "That's insulting," she said, but smiled to let him know it was meant as a joke. He smiled back sincerely.

"I'm sorry I ran off," he confessed, tentatively stepping closer to bridge some of the nervous distance between them. "I scared myself there, acting like that. I thought maybe you'd be angry."

The Goth girl's shoulders relaxed slightly. "At least I can say that my first kiss was 'unique'. I'm not angry."

Danny felt as though he was blushing, though he didn't really know for sure whether his face reflected such things anymore. It was kind of surprising to him that a pretty girl like Sam had never kissed a boy before...but then again, she'd said that she lived a pretty sheltered life. He didn't know whether to be proud or embarrassed that he was her first.

"Listen." She too stepped closer and caught his wrist with her violet-polished fingers. "I'm not going to pretend that I don't feel something for you, because I definitely do. But I don't really know what I'm feeling yet. Maybe a little more time will help us both figure things out, so let's just talk about this later, okay?"

"Yeah, that's fine," Danny said, relieved.

Sam grinned and hugged him tightly, lingering with her arms around him for a few moments. It was a strange experience for Danny, because she felt so solid and real when he hugged back, her body heat like a radiator against him. Her ponytail tickled his nose, and the scent of her hair was pleasant; her shampoo was obviously something fruity. Like grapes, maybe, he thought, like...purple. It was just the kind of thing he'd expect from her. He whispered her name softly, very conscious of the conversation they'd just had, but near-giddy from the feeling of Sam's warmth soaking into him. He hadn't felt so alive in a long time.

* * *

By six a.m., both Danny and Sam had settled comfortably on the tan-patterned attic sofa, she on the left, he on the right, with _Legends of Amity Park_ shared between them. Danny had closed the hatch and they were reading by the light of two candles until the sun began to creep in through the tiny window. The book, Danny had discovered, held a lot of information that was very familiar to him...the problem was that he couldn't quite figure out _how_ familiar, because most of the memories of events it described had simply vanished with time. However, there were some articles that seemed to tug at his thoughts, as though he might be able to piece them back together.

One such example was the story of a singing ghost named Ember, who according to legend had died of heartbreak and returned to haunt her former lover. She had apparently been the cause of several incidents in town, the most famous one being an enormous Woodstock-style concert held on the high school football field, where all of the teenagers and many of the adults of Amity had been brainwashed into attending in order to become an energy source for the spook. The party had been eventually broken up by Inviso-Bill (who seemed to be featured quite a lot in the book) and Ember supposedly still roamed around, occasionally luring people with her siren-like music and taking what she could from them. Danny thought she might have been someone he knew from before (if not from his early life as a ghost, then maybe from his time as a human) because of the very familiar description of the concert attack. He toyed briefly with the idea that he had been the one to break Ember's heart, but that just didn't seem likely.

Another ghost, Skulker, he was sure beyond a doubt that he knew somehow. The spirit was sighted often even in recent years, but not much had been accredited to him, other than a few incidents involving other ghosts, including the Box Ghost (of all people). Danny was pointing out this fact when Sam mentioned that the Box Ghost himself had an entry in the book.

"Really? Him?" Danny replied, astounded. Sure, the Box Ghost was annoying, but for all Danny knew the little guy had been haunting the Manson attic for all of his ghostly life. "Can I read it?"

"Sure." Sam turned back the pages until she located the entry, and handed the book to him so that he see the text more clearly. Danny didn't bother to mention that he could have read from his previous position even without the candles burning on the table; instead he accepted the volume and balanced it on his lap.

"What do you think?" Sam asked eagerly as he scanned the page with luminous eyes.

"This part, right here..." Danny had to reread the passage several times, and each word struck a nerve somewhere in his head. "'_Unfortunately, the experiments on the Box Ghost were cut short due to a tragedy in the Fenton family and it eventually escaped from containment.'_ Fenton...that name's so familiar."

He flipped to page 315 and Sam leaned over for a closer look.

_**The Fenton Family**_

_Jack and Madeline (Maddie) Fenton are often hailed as Amity Park's most famous ghost researchers. At the time when the town first began to show signs of serious paranormal activity, the husband-wife scientist team turned their attention to developing weapons to combat ghost attacks, and for a time were able to effectively contain the problem. Maddie's work with the patented Spirit Containment System is well-known worldwide and has been essential in the field of paranormal research, without which this compilation would not be possible. For more on the Fentons' direct involvements with ghosts, please refer to the majority of entries from 1963-1968._

_The Fentons had two children, Jasmine (Jazz, born 1947) and Daniel (Danny, born 1949) that feature prominently in Amity Park history. Jasmine was the winner of a Nobel Prize at the young age of twenty-four for her work in the newly-viable paranormal psychology field, and still resides in town as of this edition (2015). However, nearly as notable is the accidental death of Daniel Fenton on August 12th, 1967, the story of which is whispered throughout the town even today. Danny's life was claimed during a ghost-hunting expedition with his parents deep in Lake Jejune, where the remains of a sunken ship were being exorcised via submarine. A ghost attack breached the hull of the submersible, and while Jack and Maddie were found unconscious on the shore hours later, the boy was presumed drowned. Later in the year, there were repeated sightings of Danny's ghost, causing an outbreak of controversy among the ghost hunters of the town. The Fenton couple retired from active ghost hunting in 1968 and relocated to the west coast, allegedly to avoid direct conflict with their deceased son. The ghost boy has not been seen since._

"Wow, that's certainly a story," Sam said, her voice strained, obviously trying not to say what she was thinking unless her companion did so first. He was wide-eyed and obviously agitated, and the Goth girl took in a deep breath, praying that he'd dismiss the tale and turn the page.

"Oh my God," The phantom said hoarsely, so distraught that he flickered out of tangibility and allowed the book to fall heavily to the floor. "I was Danny Fenton."

* * *

-_to be continued..._

A/N: No, REALLY?

Sunday afternoon, April 3: Hraaaagh I typoed Danny's birth year in the first version; it was supposed to be 1949, not 1945! I'm so sorry!


	9. Degeneration

A/N: I hope the sheer size of this chapter makes up for my goof-up yesterday. :P I typoed Danny's birth year; it was supposed to be 1949, not 1945, and by the time I woke up and caught the error (thanks to a bunch of reviews n.n;) a lot of people had already seen the chapter. I'll recap real quick so that I don't mess anyone else up. Also notable; I suck at math, so I hope these calculations are right.

**Current Year: 2020**

**_Legends of Amity Park_ publish date: 2015**

**Sam - **

born 2003 (late July/early August)

failed to graduate high school June 2020

currently age 17

**Liza & Penelope -**

born 1980 (unspecified)

graduated college 2002

currently age 40

**Danny** -

born 1949 (late August)

graduated high school June 1967

died August 1967

currently age 17

**Jazz **-

born 1947 (unspecified)

graduated university 1969

won Nobel in 1972

died - ?

* * *

Well, to make up for it, this chapter's extra long. :P AND contains a _Casper_ reference, yay for supernatural therapy!

Le shout-outs:

**Anomaly25** - Good prediction there!

**mrit** - The last bit of this chapter got a partial rewrite, so take care when reading it! As for your questions, which I essentially answered above; no, no, and yes. Oops.

**Soni** - It's Portuguese for "Stars." I already had a habit of grabbing fic names from song names, so when I ended Chapter 1 with a lot of imagery of stars, it was a weird coincidence that Final Fantasy IV's _Estrelas_ came up on my music playlist just after. I decided to name the fic after that; it seemed fitting at the time. Maybe not so much now, but it still sounds elegant and is fun to pronounce, too!

**Epyon Zero** - In that respect you're probably way ahead of me, actually. I hadn't quite decided on that particular detail yet. XD

**Galateagirl** - Me too! I can't say for sure though, of course, but the sap in me says "oh please make Danny and Sam get together!"

**Rebecca The Animorph** - Ember's my favourite villain; I couldn't resist mentioning her. n.n

And of course millions of thanks to** chocolatemercury, Ohka Breynekai, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Katie, Laurelleaves, Kagome M.K, katiesparks **and **Shades-of-Pink **for your comments! (Really sorry to those of you I confused with the date mixup, and thank you for pointing it out!)

Estrelas

Chapter 9

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

"Danny? Are you all right?" Sam put her hand on his shoulder, concerned, but of course it passed right through him and she wobbled a bit before steadying herself.

The ghost boy looked as though he was in shock. His head was still tilted down, staring at where the book lay closed on the floor, tinged with green from the intensity of his eyes. He did not come out of it until he noticed the book growing inexplicably closer and realized he was starting to fall right through the couch. "Ah-!"

"Danny?" Sam asked anxiously.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay." The brilliant glow faded back to normal and he rose back up to her height, regaining solidity and settling back down. "Just was a bit of a shock."

"So that was you," the girl said, laying a hand on his jumpsuited knee. "I'm sorry."

He sighed, finally calming enough to crack a smile. "It's hardly _your_ fault."

"I'm the one who insists on dredging up your past."

"I'd rather know about it than not," he replied truthfully. "Knowing these things might be able to prevent my memory from getting any worse."

Sam bent over and picked up the book with both hands, laying it in her lap, but keeping the covers shut as though to prevent its ghosts from escaping through the pages. She studied the gold lettering of the title. "I've read through about halfof this now, and though the author mentions the Fentons a lot, I'm sure I would have noticed if they'd mentioned the name 'Danny' before that section."

"What about sightings of me?"

"I didn't read anything about a Danny Fenton _or_ a Danny Phantom."

The ghost frowned and bent down slightly, perching chin in the palm of his right hand with the elbow balanced on his knee. "How is all this information organized?"

"The first part is general information, and the haunting accounts start after a bit…page thirty-five, I think. I guess somewhere between thirty-five and three-fifteen they must start talking about specific ghosts and people instead of events."

"Hmm." Danny took the book from her and began to flip through it. "All the haunting stories are chronological. If we know that I died in 1967 that means reading any stories that come after August of that year might give us something."

"We could also try looking outside the book," Sam suggested. "Now that we have a date we could look at the newspaper archives in the library."

"That's a great idea! You're brilliant, Sam." He grinned at her, and she blushed slightly. "How about we head over there as soon as they open?"

"Sure!" Sam was glad to see that Danny had mostly recovered from the shock of reading his own entry. She had been worried after his initial reaction that he might run away again, or somehow disappear in a poof of light. She wondered what it would look like to her if and when he finally crossed over. Like an angel ascending? Or would he just dissolve into nothingness? Would she have a chance to say goodbye?

That was how it worked in the movies...but of course she couldn't predict the way things could turn out in real life.

The phantom had his attention focused on the text again, but started slightly at a noise Sam didn't detect. "There's someone in the hallway downstairs."

"What?" Sam hissed, straining to hear the movement. "Nobody should be awake now."

Darting forward, Danny snatched the two candles off the table and disappeared upwards, leaving her in near-darkness. She started to ask in a whisper why he had not just blown them out, but cut herself off hearing a noise very much like the hallway ceiling panel moving. Belatedly she realized that someone might have come up and smelled the smoke from the freshly-extinguished wicks.

Sure enough, the hatch creaked open and her grandmother's voice called softly, "Samantha? Are you up there?"

Sam opened her mouth, unsure whether to reveal her position and get caught in the attic _again_, or let Grandma believe that'd she'd snuck out in the night. _Penelope already wants to come over every damned day_, the teenager told herself, not daring to move or answer. But she couldn't see Danny; his glow was muted by his invisibility - had he gone outside to put out the candles? - and so she sat, frozen, hoping Grandma Manson wouldn't risk climbing the stairs again.

The hatch had been completely unfolded from the sounds of it, and there was a sound like a slippered footstep on wood. Sam stood as quickly and quietly as possible, looking about for a place to hide, but as she made the first movement towards the coat rack a familiar chill approached and two ethereal hands fell upon her shoulders. "_Just stay still._"

Sam nodded. She felt strange and very light, and suddenly she could see his glow again, standing behind her. His touch didn't seem as cold now as it once had, as though the sudden close contact had caused it to circulate through her in an instant and make her immune. She leaned her head back to look at his face, intending to tell him that her grandmother was coming upstairs, and they had to hide or she'd see him like a light bulb in the dark. But he lifted one hand and put a finger to her lips, anticipating the action, and whispered breathlessly in her ear. "_Don't talk - we're invisible."_

So that was it, she realized with shock, the source of that strange tingling all over, and why his spectral form looked more washed-out than ever. Even her own hands were glowing softly, translucent and wispy, so she stood absolutely still and watched the top of the stairs, where the bright hallway light was spilling onto the attic ceiling and north wall. After a moment a grey head of hair appeared, followed by spindly shoulders, and Grandma Manson paused at the top to look furtively around the room. Her eyes passed over Danny and Sam without even stopping, the girl realized with shock.

"Samantha?" the elderly woman called again, frowning when there was no movement anywhere. She hesitated briefly, and then eased back down the stairs without turning on the light. Sam let out a breath she hadn't known she'd been holding.

"Sorry," Danny apologized, but Sam just shook her head. "What now?"

"Well, we can't stay here. What if she calls the police?"

"I'm sure I could hide us if she did." The ghost still hadn't released his hold on her shoulders, though Sam noticed that her body had returned to normal. "Or I could fly us out of here."

"I guess we'll be going to the library early."

Danny stepped away and moved around so he was facing her. "I've never carried anyone before, I think, but it shouldn't be too hard. When you're invisible, you're near-weightless."

She nodded. "Okay."

Gently he placed his hand on her again, this time at the small of her back, and Sam felt the tingling feeling flow through her. He reached down and gently swept her up into his arms, supporting her behind the knees and at her back. She gasped in surprise at the movement, which seemed to her to have taken place while moving through thick molasses, so slowly did she seem to drift up into the air and settle back down against him. She hadn't really been close enough before to appraise the build hidden beneath his black and white jumpsuit; and even though she thought he looked far younger than seventeen, from this vantage his chest was pretty well-defined. She felt herself turn red, hoping he didn't notice. "Is this all right?"

"Yes," she whispered, quite unable to say more.

He grinned and took to the air.

Sam's first flying experience was one of the most thrilling things she'd ever done in her life, and combining it with first intangibility experience, first time being invisible, and first time being carried around by a more-than-just-mildly-attractive boy ghost, she was sure that this was definitely a day to remember. The brief second passing through the wall, that four-inch space of solid wood, insulation, siding and paint, had to be the most disorienting feeling yet. There was the initial apprehension as they'd approached the jip rock, and then as they slid through the panel she felt a strange heaviness in her chest, as though her body was trying to oppose a force it could no longer touch. Her stomach had seemed to drop right out of her, and she clung to Danny tightly, disoriented. Even as they shot into the open sky the feeling only slightly lessened, as the air pressed upon her from all sides and her body fought to push back. Recognizing her anxiety, the phantom slowed down and tightened his hold slightly as they flew out over the yard, smiling reassuringly. "It's okay; you're safe here."

"Okay," she breathed, hardly daring to look down. Instead, she looked to her right, over and through his shoulder, and caught sight of his ghostly tail streaming out behind him, like a turbulent fog following in their wake. Out in the sun, the glow of his body and eyes had diminished so much they were barely visible, but the tail was an ever-present reminder of Danny's true nature. She turned forward to watch the approaching scenery.

"We'll go tangible again," he told her, somehow knowing how distressing it was, and suddenly the wind was torrid in her hair, shrieking past her ears. Even Danny's shocking white hair was blown back by the force of the air pressure, flattening it against his head. Sam had to shut her eyes to get used to it. "Better? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." It was still strange, but somehow it was still better than that terrible feeling of feeling nothing at all.

* * *

They'd touched down inside the public library hours before its scheduled opening, thanks to Danny's ability to phase through objects. Sam didn't dare turn on the microfiche or even any lights, but the bright day outside made it easy enough to see what she was looking for if she stayed by the windows. Danny, apparently, had incredible vision that didn't seem at all affected by the brightness level of the room, and so they separated at the newspaper archives, Sam curled up by the window with a huge stack of leather-bound old prints, he at the towering shelves inspecting the volumes and bringing them to her as needed. Unfortunately, aside from the feature article on August 13, 1967, the obituary on the following Sunday and a smattering of follow-ups on ghost attacks involving the Fentons, she was coming up with nothing. She didn't think it was safe to use any of the computers just yet, in case a janitor or librarian came in to prepare the building for opening, and of course her own laptop and research tools were back at the house. Looking up, Sam spotted Danny perched on top of the shelf, legless, holding a book open in the crook of his arm. "Hey, found anything?"

"I think I found something about my sister," he told her excitedly, propping up the scientific journal so she could see. "Jazz is on the cover of this one."

"That's great, that might give us some insight," Sam replied with enthusiasm, turning her attention to bindings from January and February of 1968. They didn't have time to read through it all before the place opened at ten and they lost the element of privacy, she thought, but she hoped something would catch her eye before too long. Her watch beeped to indicate that it was nine o'clock.

Sam was still paging through the first week of January when Danny made a noise from above her. "What is it?"

"Listen to this," he said quietly. "'_Jasmine's foray into the field of paranormal psychology began when an accident claimed her seventeen-year-old brother Danny's life in August of 1967. Previous to that, Jasmine's attentions in university had been focused on social work and adolescence and youth developmental therapy. After the tragedy, Jasmine began to develop her own field of clinical psychology, focused on communication with ghosts in order to ease their destructive tendencies. While she asserts that it was "only natural" that she follow somehow in the footsteps of her supernatural-inclined family, Jasmine insists that her primary reasoning for moving away from social work was to "take science in new directions". Her very first target of communication was her deceased brother Danny._

"_The ghost of the Fenton boy had been sighted numerous times since the submarine accident that took his life deep within Lake Jejune. Some even speculate that it was Danny's spirit that transported his parents to the safety of shore immediately after the incident, though no witnesses who arrived on the scene could say they observed a ghost. Jasmine began her studies at the lake at the age of twenty, shortly after Jack and Madeline Fenton left Amity in wake of the tragedy, and spent the next three years compiling the thesis that would eventually earn her a Nobel Prize in 1972.' _This is from 1973, by the way," Danny pointed out to Sam, gesturing at the cover. The girl on the front of it, who had long red hair and a beautiful smile, looked nothing like Danny, but Sam supposed maybe that was normal. She had huge azure eyes, and in the photo was touching a pair of reading glasses against her chin."_'Jasmine's efforts with her brother's ghost (the details of which are, unfortunately, quite confidential, like any other patient) set the groundwork for dozens of other lingering spirits that wandered the town, and within only five years the paranormal problem faced by Amity Park has alleviated considerably. Miss Fenton's work in the field is only a starting point that will surely lead the scientific community down fantastic new paths._'"

"Nothing else about you?" Sam asked quizzically.

"'Fraid not," Danny said with a sigh. "It's all confidential, apparently. But I obviously didn't cross over from her 'efforts', so that puts us back at square one."

"No way!" Sam cried excitedly. "That's an incredible lead we have there! _Legends of Amity Park_ says that Jazz was still alive and living in town as of the last printing of the book, which was five years ago, right? She'd be, what, in her sixties or seventies by now?"

"Seventy-two," Danny answered thoughtfully.

"We could just _find_ her and ask her what you talked about back then! Who better to go to than the resident expert on this stuff?"

The ghost boy grinned. "You're absolutely right! That's a great idea!"

"This'll be perfectly easy! Once we're done here, we wait around a few minutes for the library to open, then I'll head in and use the public terminals to look up Jazz's address. Then we fly over there and talk to her right away!"

"Perfect!" Danny leapt down from the shelf, reforming his legs as he landed, and gave her an enthusiastic hug. Sam grinned and hugged back with equal vigour.

When he finally released her, the Goth teen picked up the two months of newspaper archives. "We should get these back on the shelf before anyone comes in to open the place up."

"Right," he agreed, taking the books from her hands and flying them back to their rightful places on the shelves.

Picking up another stack of papers, Sam hoped desperately that Jazz Fenton was still alive and lucid. She didn't know what they'd do if Danny's sister had passed away sometime in the last five years. Try to track down records of her work with Danny? Or would all of those things be kept only in Jazz's head? Sam didn't know; didn't want to think about it, to be honest. Instead of voicing her fears, she brought up a completely different subject. "We still haven't found any clues that could tell us what you were haunting or why."

"No, we didn't, did we?" the ghost boy replied with a frown. "We know I died in the lake; you'd think I'd be haunting _that_."

"I don't know if that's how it works."

"Neither do I." He replaced the last volume on the shelf.

Sam leaned against the wall, careful to keep her distance from the window, lest anyone spot her movement from outside. This room seemed to face an area lined with trees at the back of the building, but it never hurt to be cautious. "There has to be something stopping you from crossing over. Something left undone. Do you remember if you were happy in your human life?"

"I thought so, yeah," he confessed, though there was doubt lingering at the back of his mind. Something he almost remembered, but couldn't quite grab hold of. "I think I got along really well with my parents and sister, and my schoolwork wasn't always great, but I was getting through okay…I remember being excited about graduating from high school. I think I just finished, right before I died."

"Hmm. Did you have friends?"

"Yeah, I had a best friend. I can't quite remember his name, but we knew each other since we were kids. I don't remember feeling lonely very much."

Sam ran a nervous hand through her ink-black hair. If the only living people that Danny cared about from his former life – Jazz, and this other guy, neither of whom might even still be around – were the answer, then why didn't he remember more about them? Sam had a sinking feeling about the whole affair. Maybe the thing that Danny needed to do to cross over was already too far away in the past to reach, and as these last remnants of his human self passed on too, he would continue to get worse and worse, until he became like the ghosts described in her book. Before they had even started looking for Jazz, somehow Sam knew Danny's sister was not going to be the one with the answers.

"I hear something," her companion said suddenly, tilting his chin up. "Keys. Shall we go?"

"Okay," Sam agreed, and he took her hand and led her through the wall, out into the back garden. When they were standing at the tree line, he released her and she winked back into visibility, while he hung like a cold fog at her shoulder. "Aren't you coming out too?"

"In public? I'd better not." Danny's voice said at her ear. "We don't want to deal with any ghost hunters today, especially if people are out looking for you."

"Oh no, that's true," Sam realized. She hoped her grandmother hadn't called the police. Grandma Manson was usually a really easygoing person, but with all the strange events concerning Sam in the past week, she wouldn't be surprised if this latest disappearance was too much for the elderly woman to handle on her own. The Goth teen pushed away her guilt and resolved to apologize later.

"Samantha…fancy meeting you here." A familiar, catty voice drew her attention to the corner of the library building, causing Sam to jump nervously.

"P-Penelope!" she sputtered, shocked. What was the therapist doing here? Surely she couldn't have been _looking_ for Sam!

"Why, I was just on my way to the library, hon, they're opening in five. I heard voices and came to see just who was lurking around." She looked hard at Sam. "What are _you_ doing?"

"Waiting for the library to open, too," the teenager answered nervously. "I was just checking out the garden in the meantime."

"I see." As Penelope approached, Sam felt Danny move further away, presumably as not to alarm the woman with his cold aura. Her red high heels were slick with wetness from the grass by the time she arrived at Sam's side, causing her to look down at her feet and scowl. "I do wish they'd tend this area better."

"Ah, yeah." Sam's combat boots were, of course, unaffected.

"Are you all right, dear?" the psychiatrist inquired, catching Sam's chin in her lacquered fingers, and suddenly Sam felt a little bit dazed. "I'd hoped to see you later today, but we could certainly talk now. You look like you've been up all night."

"I couldn't sleep very well," Sam told her, a mostly-honest answer. She tried to pull away from the woman, but Penelope was peering over her sunglasses to look into Sam's violet eyes.

She made a clucking sound with her tongue. "I see, I see. Thinking about what we talked about, hmm? Don't worry, my dear, I'm always ready to help you, as soon as you want to get started."

"Yeah…" Sam trailed off, suddenly feeling very compliant. She didn't notice Penelope look over her shoulder and nod her head once, eyes looking to the right. In fact, Sam didn't notice anything Penelope was doing until the woman had put her arm around the teenager's shoulders in a comforting gesture. Sam was suddenly very thankful that she had Penelope around to tell all her problems to.

"Now dear, we'll talk this out, but first I want to ask you a question. I'd been wondering if you might have had any…ghost contact…since you arrived in town."

This statement jarred Sam out of her reverie. "What? Ghosts?"

"Certainly, my dear Samantha, and don't be afraid to say so if you have! It's quite normal, you know, for a ghost's presence to make people more depressed, and I _did_ notice how sad you've been lately. Did you know that ghosts can just suck the happiness right out of you? Filthy things."

"I-" Sam faltered, suddenly confused. "I didn't know that."

"Absolutely, child. I studied paranormal psychology in college, you know."

"Like Jazz…" the girl realized out loud.

Penelope jolted, startling Sam as well. "Jazz as in Jazz _Fenton_?"

"Yeah," Sam replied slowly. "Do you know her?"

"Well, everyone in psychology knows who Jasmine Fenton is. She lectured at the state university when Liza and I went there…" Penelope trailed off, seemingly forgetting what she'd been saying. "But Samantha, you didn't answer me; have you really been seeing ghosts? I promise I won't think badly of you if you do."

"N-no, of course not," Sam replied, coming somewhat to her senses. _Is what she said true? Do ghosts really make people depressed? Danny wouldn't do that…would he?_

_No,_ she told herself, _I believe in Danny. I know he's been as truthful as he can. _

Penelope sidled around behind Sam, shifting so that her hands were on the girl's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "I've been a psychologist for seventeen years, and I've worked with dozens of ghosts. I can _tell_ when there's one around."

_But you never noticed Danny when he was in the kitchen,_ she thought dazedly, fighting back the words from coming out of her mouth.

"I'd hoped you'd be truthful - that's the first step to healing. You've been in contact with a ghost," she said sternly. "And it's still here, I can feel it in the air. Did it possess you? Did it hurt you?"

"He didn't hurt me!" she argued. Something about the situation suddenly seemed very wrong. She was angry all at once, like she usually was around Penelope…but also sad. Her mind played back at warp speed all the awful truths the therapist had told her about herself.

_"You poor dear, you really are all alone in this world." _

"_Did you know that ghosts can just suck the happiness right out of you?"_

It had to be true, she realized. She had only started feeling really down after she'd met Danny. Could he be…feeding on her happiness?

Was he _already_ vengeful, and misleading her all along?

Sam could almost feel her heart break. Danny couldn't have…he wouldn't…

"He's my friend," she whispered out loud.

"It's okay, Samantha," Penelope soothed, lifting one hand to smooth Sam's flyaway hair. "You can tell me anything. I promise."

"Don't…call me Samantha."

"Anything you want, dear. Just tell me where to find that terrible ghost, and I'll get someone to come and take care of it for you."

"He's…um…"

"Sam, what are you _doing_?" Danny hissed in her ear, causing both women to yelp and back away. "You have to get away, I think that woman—_oof!_" He was cut off and the source of his voice tumbled backwards with a cry, as though slammed by an invisible force. "A ghost?" they heard him say, shocked.

"Two of them? Come out, ghosts!" Penelope demanded.

"Fine!" Danny snapped, and winked into visibility about six feet away, his eyes hard as emeralds. About a metre away another spirit materialized into view, this one an unshapely green blob with wicked fangs. "Now let go of Sam."

"Well, well, well," Penelope sneered in response, shocking both teens and even drawing the attention of the ectoplasmic ghost. "If it isn't the little Phantom...or shall I say _Inviso-Bill_. How's death been treating you, boy?"

"_Inviso-Bill_?" Sam cried, stunned. Wasn't that the famous ghost connected to the Axion Labs attacks, the mayor's kidnapping, the Box Ghost's companion…?

He had _lied_ to her!

"Who are you?" Danny demanded, his mouth a grim line. "How do you know me?"

"Please don't say you've forgotten _me_, Phantom! Wouldn't that be just awful? Don't you remember when we met at Casper High, during Spirit Week?"

"Spirit Week...?" Danny repeated, puzzled.

"Oh, oh my, can it be?" She walked a little closer to him, still clutching Sam, scooting the teenager forward for a better look. "Even the oh-so-righteous Phantom can fall prey to degeneration?"

"Degeneration?"

She waved a manicured hand as if to _pooh-pooh_ his confusion. "Memory loss, dear boy, and eventually unawareness of self, loss of care about anything but survival! I had thought you of all people would be able to cling to humanity a little longer than _this_."

"Shut up," he growled, levelling an acidic stare at her. "I don't know how you know these things, but I am _not_ going to become like them."

"Hmm," she said, looking carefully at him. Neither Phantom nor Sam noticed that the other ghost had simply drifted back to watch the scene. "You've been preying on poor Samantha here, and I'm not going to allow that. I thought you might be one of the ones with some potential for reform, little ghost boy; if you'd found something to focus on, you know, you could probably have stopped it."

"And be consumed by that? Become obsessed with haunting?" he demanded, before her words hit home. "Wait, _preying _on her? I'm not the one doing the psychoanalysis here!"

"I'd certainly hope not, _spook_. I'm calling the ghost hunters right now. I can tell you're too far gone to be saved with therapy now." Penelope rummaged in her purse for a cell phone, never taking her eyes off the ghost. Sam wanted to speak, to argue with one of them…but she wasn't really sure which side she was fighting for anymore.

"I've found something to focus on," Phantom said with a deep breath, his eyes flashing. "The only thing important to me...so I suggest you let her go."

* * *

_-to be continued..._

A/N: P.S., _Kindred Spirits_ was freakin' awesome. XD


	10. Breathe Again

A/N: It's chapter 10! Did you guys know that I expected this piece to round out at about six chapters? XP That concept went out the window somewhere, oh well.

I thought it might interest you guys to know that I'm kind of using this story as a springboard to get me writing novels after I graduate university next month. I've been testing out my descriptive abilities, scene changes, dialogue flow and final word count estimates as this story's moved along. I actually had (it occurred around chapter 2) some vague concepts for a story with original characters, similar to _Estrelas_ in that it'd be about a girl who meets a boy ghost...originally, the girl could see and talk to ghosts, but it seems that idea's been done a few times already in kid lit, so I'll probably confine it to the ghost boy just staying hidden from everyone but her. Obviously it'd be unrelated to _Danny Phantom_ either, since, y'know, copyright infringement, but I may end up lifting the attic setting from this very piece, if I ever write that to be published. If and when I do, I hope none of you guys ever happen to read it and accuse me of plagiarism. ;) I'm sure you'd be able to identify it, though, now that I've mentioned it!

Anyway, thank you all for your reviews last chapter; suffice to say that nobody's very happy with Penelope Spectra right now.

Shout-outs!

**mrit -** Doesn't paranormal psychology seem like the most likely career ever for Jazz?

**L'ange-sans-Ailes** - Bertrand indeed! Unfortunately for Danny, he still doesn't have a clue who the flip Penelope is...and his ghost sense _did_ go off, but he thinks it's Bertrand. XD

**Epyon Zero** - "Soul vampire"...what a fabulous term!

**Galateagirl** - Ah, she can't help it, you know the effect Spectra has on people...notice Sam didn't start getting really paranoid until Spectra touched her. ;) She "takes the thing that bothers someone most," as Danny once said, and makes them truly doubt themselves. Well, you want to be surprised, and there's no point in telling you now because this chapter is a major climactic point! Hope you like it!

**Lessien Sharpwind** - Well, thank you! I appreciate my reviewers all the more because there aren't so many of you. n.n (I don't know if it's the AU-ness, ambiguous descriptions or the foreign one-word name that makes people pass this story over, but oh well!) Hope you stick around for the final chapters!

**Rebecca The Animorph** - Congrats and thank you for being my 100th review! n.n Hope you'll get to see this chapter eventually!

Also, **Hathors-Favorite, tennis turtle, Anomaly25, phoenix wanderer **and **chocolatemercury**, thanks for your comments, you really know how to get a girl motivated! My thanks as well to those of you who've got this story on your Alerts or Favourites list, and the silent readers (my Stats page indicates a bunch of you, or maybe everyone's just reloading a lot XD), and those of you just joining us who managed to read all thirty thousand words of this monster at once. (That's pretty crazy to think about, considering that I couldn't finish NaNoWriMo...)

Hopefully I won't have to cut this chapter short; I have a Poetry exam tomorrow, and need to shower and all that...pfft. Enjoy, guys!

Estrelas

Chapter 10

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

"Danny..." Sam trailed off, uncertain what to say.

"You see? He admits it!" Penelope crowed, pulling the girl back a few steps. "This spook's just revealed his true nature, Samantha; you're an _object_ to him. A possession that helps him pretend he's human! How long have you been seeing him? Hasn't he always made you confused like this?"

Sam thought back to her first moments with Danny, her angry confrontation as she'd demanded he leave the house. The way he'd known all the right things to say when she'd run up there crying, and then told her things about himself, about his life...and made her feel sorry for him. She _had_ genuinely felt sorry for him! Thinking about how he felt had nearly put her on the verge of tears so many times! She wanted to be angry...but there was a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. _I trusted him..._ "I...I guess he has..."

"Sam," Danny said desperately, "I'm not the one who confused you. I'm not the one who made you cry, please remember! You said that you understood me...why are you taking the word of someone who knows nothing about you, over a friend?"

The girl opened her mouth to answer, but found she didn't know _what_ to say. That was true too, wasn't it? It was Penelope that had told her those terrible things her mother said, Penelope who accused her of being violent...Penelope who condescendingly told her what she wanted. Not Danny. _Danny was the only who understood _me_. And I thought I understood him._ But she couldn't put the words out of her mind...

"You filthy soul vampire," the therapist hissed, keeping one hand tight on Sam's shoulder as she dialled 911 with the other. Danny darted forward to grab the phone, but Sam screamed angrily as he approached, and the ghost halted in mid-flight. Penelope smirked at him and then turned her attention to her call.

Danny looked as though he was going to try and reason with Sam again, locking eyes with her wearing the most pained expression she had ever seen on his face. The green ghost made his move first, though, transforming into a giant, slavering jungle cat. "Come on, kid, unless you're scared."

"We haven't been introduced," Danny snarled, focusing his attention on the shapeshifter.

"Oh, we have," it replied in a smooth male voice. "But fortunately for me, _you_ don't seem to recall it."

Danny rolled his eyes. "I'm so glad my problems are so convenient for every--_oof!_" The cat leapt forward with claws extended and slammed right into Danny's chest, sending him flying backwards into the ground. Before the phantom had a chance to retaliate or even get up, the shapeshifter was upon him, taking swipes at his face that Danny narrowly avoided by turning intangible and sinking into the ground. It was up in a predatory position with haunches raised and a malevolent grin before Danny reappeared at the tree line, looking furious and scared. "Okay, seriously, what did I ever do to you?"

The cat replied in singsong while prowling slowly closer. "Well, you're only Public Ghost Enemy Number One. It's the duty of us peacekeeping ghosts to stop you from causing any more trouble."

"_Me?_ When was the last time _I_ caused trouble?"

"My goodness, Phantom, you really have lost it haven't you?" Penelope was proving narration from the sidelines that caused Sam's expression to become more and more horrified with each word. "There was the time you attacked the school, the time you kidnapped the mayor, the time you brought the Ghost King to prey on the city, the time you unleashed the Halloween Demon and killed all those children...oh yes, and of course Spirit Week, when you tried to annihilate Jasmine Fenton. I wonder did Samantha look up anything on you? Or did she not know you were _Inviso-Bill_?"

Thanks to the book, though, Sam _had_ read plenty on Inviso-Bill, including some of the events that Penelope had just described. And now that she thought about it...while she hadn't read any article that described the ghost in detail, she remembered that he was often referred to as the "ghost kid," and allegedly wore white and black.

"Are you kidding? Even _I_ didn't know I was Inviso-Bill!" Danny hissed in reply, but the expression on his face betrayed his own shock.

_Maybe he really didn't know,_ Sam told herself. _But if it's true, then..._

How could she have gotten herself into this?

Danny had to turn his attention back to the fight when the shapeshifter ghost came at him again, claws flying. Instinctively he fired an ecto-blast at it, which went wide and burned a smoking hole into the grass about a metre to the left of Sam and Penelope. The therapist shrieked, but Sam stood perfectly still, hardly even noticing the collateral damage the two spirits were inflicting on the library's garden.

"Sam!" Danny cried, unable to take his eyes off the enormous cat to look at her. "You have to _run_! Get away from here before you get hurt!"

Her heart seemed to freeze in her chest. Despite all logic, she still cared for Danny and wasn't willing to give up on him just yet. "What about you?"

"I'll find you!" he yelled. "Just run!"

"No, Samantha!" Penelope said angrily, grabbing her by the wrist. "Stay here!"

The Goth girl stared at her incredulously. "_Why?_ We're both in danger of getting hit! We have to go!"

"I want to watch this filthy ghost meet his end," Penelope replied with a sadistic smirk.

"No!" Sam hissed, rounding on her. "I won't let this happen to Danny! I'm going to help him find out the truth, and he's going to cross over peacefully!"

"Don't make me laugh, girl!" the therapist cried. "_Peacefully?_ Didn't you hear what I told you? This ghost is too far gone to be helped now! He's going to be taken by the Hunters, and then he's going to be _destroyed_, molecule by molecule if necessary!"

Sam looked at her with horror and wrenched her wrist free from the woman's grip. "That's heartless!"

"No less that he deserves!" she spat.

"Sam! Listen to me!" Danny yelled, taking his eyes off the cat for a few precious seconds. "This woman knows everything about me. It sounds terrible to say, but maybe...this _is_ what I deserve."

"_What?"_

At Sam's outburst, the shapeshifter ghost stopped his attack in midair, hesitating. Danny took advantage of the moment to look at her with a hard frown. "She might be _right_, Sam! Your book says I'm some kind of monster!"

"But that doesn't mean you can't be helped!" Sam said desperately, her stomach turning to ice. "You could still cross over! We could still find out what's keeping you here!"

"You're what's keeping me here," he told her, so softly that she had to strain to hear it in the absolutely silent air. Sam's mouth went dry. "I'm not crossing over, because I want to be here, with you. So _go_, before you get hurt! If I make it, I'll find you!"

Eyes wide, Sam nodded and fled.

"Samantha...!" Penelope watched the teenager run into the trees, but made no move to stop her, instead looking back to the scuffle between the ghosts. With shaking hands she withdrew a cigarette from her purse and lit it, then checked her makeup in a compact mirror. "I suppose it'll be just as well if I can be there when she finds out he's been destroyed."

Danny, meanwhile, was fighting for his afterlife again. The shapeshifter was incredibly powerful, or maybe the boy ghost was just very weak - it was hard for him to tell, for he didn't even have a recollection of the last time he'd fought with _anyone_, spirit or otherwise. He suffered blow after blow from the mammal's huge paws, until one lucky strike slashed open the front of his jumpsuit completely, and he began oozing green ectoplasm out of the wound. Penelope cackled maniacally.

Dimly Danny became aware of the sound of sirens in the distance; the authorities that were no doubt coming for _him_. The cat had stepped back to admire his handiwork. "My my, I must have gotten so much better than the last time I saw you, you weak little thing. Hope you're ready to meet the ghost hunters!"

Danny dropped to his knees on the grass, gasping without inhaling any oxygen, clutching one hand to the deep gash in his stomach. It was pain like he'd never felt before. His other fist kneaded deep grooves in the soft dirt beneath the grass. His ears were pounding. _This is it..._

"Well, how do you like that?" The cat sounded quite proud of itself; Danny could not raise his head to see its smirk. "The timing could not have been more perfect! Shall I leave you here to be picked up?"

"Go, Bertrand," Penelope commanded suddenly, stepping closer to the two in her red heels. "You'll be caught too. I'll make sure Danny stays here to meet his visitors."

"Fine."

Danny struggled to see through his white bangs, but when he lifted his head, the other ghost was gone and Penelope knelt over him with a malicious smile. "I never _dreamed_ you were still alive - theoretically speaking, of course - little Danny. Then again, no one ever took credit for destroying you."

"Nngh," was all Danny could say, sweat dripping down his face.

"I must say, I was pretty shocked to find you hanging around with Samantha. The poor dear really is having a hard time thanks to you. Nobody wants to be friends with a criminal, after all."

"I don't--" Danny gasped, but that was all he could say.

"Don't remember? Yes, yes," the therapist _tsked_. "And you won't. It's better that way, dear boy, but if you'd just let me help you, I can take a way a bit of that depression for you, hmm?"

"What do you--?"

Suddenly she was tilting his chin up with her manicured fingers, and he was looking into her shining eyes, which were wide with excitement. "Oh yes, even better than I remember! _Despair_, Danny, and I'll enjoy it all the more knowing this is permanently the end of you!"

"I can't," he said, but trailed off. It felt as though all the energy was being sucked out of him. This woman...knew that other ghost, Bertrand? And knew him, Danny, from before? She had some kind of power, of that he was certain, for her face seemed to glow as she laughed, and all of his strength was simply draining out where she touched him. _A ghost_, he realized suddenly, _Penelope's a ghost. I have to get away before..._

The woman broke off eye contact and looked over her shoulder at the sound of slamming car doors. "Oh, the hunters are here for you, Danny, so I'll have to step away. Hate for any of my own secrets to be discovered by their equipment - it's nothing like it was ten years ago, you know."

He was so far gone that he could not understand her words; could not understand why she had let go of him, but suddenly the draining feeling stopped and he could concentrate on trying to keep all of his ectoplasm from spilling out onto the grass. His body was spasming, a curious feeling had started to settle into his stomach, and without conscious thought Danny knew he had to _get away_. Praying his legs would hold him long enough to push him skyward, he wrapped both hands around his abdomen and took to the air with a feral scream.

Penelope let out a string of curses, whirling on one heel and reaching for him, but even injured the spook could still fly at an incredible speed. The ghost hunters had arrived behind her, and were pointing and shouting at the distant figure of the ghost, who was still quite visible in the cloudless sky. They watched him with held breath until Phantom wobbled a few hundred metres away, halted in his flight, and then fell headfirst out of the sky and into the trees.

* * *

Sam was lost, and heartsick, and confused. She had run as long and hard as she could, gasping, not just away from the danger – no, once she had taken herself far enough out of the area that she must surely have been safe, she continued to run, as though physical distance might provide her with enough comfort zone to think things through.

She was still feeling the effects of Penelope's words, but now Danny's last declaration of friendship (or _was_ it? Sam thought to herself) was also ringing in her ears. She wasn't entirely certain _what_ to think. He hadn't denied being Inviso-Bill; in fact he'd admitted that it could very well be true. But knowledge of his past didn't erase the Danny she thought she'd known.

Sam leaned against a huge tree, grateful for its support. She felt weak-kneed and ill, and the only thing stopping her from passing directly out was the knowledge that if she fainted here, she was going to be even unhappier when she woke up. Her stomach churned frightfully.

In the distance – maybe not even thirty metres away – she could hear shouting, and much further was the sound of sirens, but no weapons. Did they have special guns for ghost-catching? Sam wondered. She wondered if she should hide. There seemed to be people tearing through the forest, yelling incomprehensible things in loud male voices, Her head spun.

Something was approaching, and Sam stumbled to her feet just in time to find an enormous ecto-gun levelled at her face. Her eyes widened. "Wha--?"

The man who bore it wore black armour, red goggles and an angry expression. "Don't move, or I'll shoot!"

Sam came to her senses, freezing where she was. "Who-who are you?"

"Amity Park Ghost Squad." He did not lower the gun. "Who are _you_?"

"S-Sam Manson," she replied, relaxing slightly. "I was running, there were ghosts fighting by the library."

He nodded with a frown, as though trying to make his expression less frightening for her sake, but failing by quite a bit. "Well, Miss Manson, the ghosts escaped into the forest, so I advise you get out of here. I'll escort you back. We don't want any civilians getting tangled up in this business."

"I'll take her," a boy said, stepping out of the trees behind Sam. "My house is nearby."

"You a friend of hers?" The man said gruffly, the tip of his gun jerking slightly.

"A neighbour," the boy said, drawing a surprised look from Sam, who was sure she'd never seen him before in her life. He had jet-black hair and azure eyes, and looked to be a couple of years younger than her. He was wearing a white t-shirt and oversized jeans. "Come on Sam, let's get back before those ghosts find us, okay?"

He snatched her hand and led her through the trees without a second look at the officer, and the man grunted and ran off in the opposite direction without another word. Sam, however, was more than a little angry that her much-needed thinking time had been interrupted by someone _else_ who wanted to make the situation a little more complicated. "Okay, now, _who are you_?"

"Like I said - your neighbour. I need to talk to you, and what I'm going to say can't be said with that guy around."

"So talk," she sighed.

"Listen, I saw you with that ghost kid, this morning on the steps of the library." He swallowed noticeably. "Inviso-Bill. You're putting yourself in a dangerous situation by hanging around with him."

"I'd never have guessed," Sam said dryly, her reply punctuated by the scream of sirens from far away.

"I know you probably don't want advice from some kid you don't even know," the raven-haired boy said, his mouth a grim line. "But that ghost is trouble. Public Ghost Enemy Number One. If they haven't caught him yet, they soon will, and you don't want to be in the crossfire when they do."

"Why are you telling me this?" Sam asked, her stomach feeling as though it was filled with lead.

"Because." The boy didn't seem to want to meet her gaze. "That ghost ruined my life. My parents were ghost hunters…and he's been nothing but trouble for as long as I can remember. Everyone in my family suffered because my mom and dad dedicated their lives to destroying him."

"I'm sure he never meant to hurt you," Sam argued. "Right now, he doesn't remember anything that's happened."

"That's why I needed to warn you!" the boy said, locking eyes with her. "I was watching the fight by the library. That creepy spook has gotten his memory back, and now he's more dangerous than ever!"

"He got his memory back-?" Sam faltered, trying to take in this information. If that was true, and the things Penelope had said were true, then would the Danny she saw next be as cold-hearted and menacing as Inviso-Bill in _Legends of Amity Park_? Horror-struck, she regarded the other teen with growing dread. While she knew she shouldn't trust this boy, this kid that she didn't even know, he looked so concerned that she couldn't just brush him off. There was something familiar and true in his eyes – the colour reminded her of someone else's, but she couldn't quite place who. Something in his expression was desperate, and despite herself Sam began to feel doubt about her friend's innocence creeping into her mind. _Too many things just don't add up._

And yet…Danny. She couldn't give up hope.

"Listen," the boy urged. "Please, you have to _forget about him_. I'm trying to save you from getting caught up in something terrible."

"I was already in the middle of it," Sam replied grimly. "And I know Danny won't hurt me."

"Not physically, no," the boy shook his head. "But he _will_ hurt you emotionally."

"Very nice, very nice!" Both teens swivelled at the sound of someone clapping, slowly and deliberately, from the shadows. "You're doing my job for me! I'd wait around to see what happens, but I'd hate for you to use your trump card."

It was a ghost, Sam realized with shock, one like she'd never seen before. Like a living black hole, it was shaped like a jagged-edged human, with features that glowed malevolently in the dim light of the forest. A woman, she thought, with a familiar, sultry voice.

"Spectra," the boy said softly, moving to stand in front of Sam.

"You remembered my name! How touching. Kind of inconvenient that you weren't as dead as I thought, though." The black ghost scowled, her curved lips as red as blood. "I'm hoping to keep the girl around, so if you don't want to see her hurt, I'd advise you to back off."

"You're not taking her," he replied, voice low. "I'd sooner reveal myself then let you take her."

"And then what? You can't fight me." She laughed maliciously, squeezing her hands into fists. "How perfect is this? I could suck her dry right here, and pin the blame on _you_! Another one for the history books, hmm?"

"It's a shame that you don't know what I can do," he said mildly. Sam, bewildered, could only look on as Spectra and the raven-haired teen bantered. She had _no_ idea what they were talking about, but was seriously considering making a break for it anyway when he glanced backward and whispered, "Be ready to run."

"What'll it be?" Spectra taunted.

Sam couldn't see his face, but the boy grinned widely and threw the ghost a salute. "I say, see ya!"

Then, turning, he grabbed Sam's hand and fled, ignoring her shocked cry. Behind them, Spectra screeched, outraged, and the Goth girl was just looking over her shoulder when a very disorienting feeling swept through her, that pounding, intense pressure all over that she had experienced via Danny's powers that morning. _Intangibility_. Before she could utter a word her feet were whisked off the ground and they were flying _through_ the trees at an incredible speed, immune to both wind and the obstructions thrown in her vision by the forest. "Don't talk until we get out of here!" her companion cried,and already she could see the light growing bigger as they approached the forest edge on the opposite side from the library, an area with a huge lake and no immediate sign of civilization. Within a moment they shot through the tree line and skidded to a halt on the ground, solid again, without a chance to even breathe before the blue-eyed teen's lanky arms were dragging Sam back into the shade of an enormous boulder.

She sputtered, the last ten seconds a nightmarish blur. What was going on? This kid had been telling her to stay away from ghosts, but he was a ghost himself,but at the same time a boy, a _ghost boy_, she didn't understand—

And then: Danny's voice in her ear. "Well…that wasn't in the plan."

* * *

-_to be continued_...


	11. Epitaph

I realize that the last chapter left off on a very confusing note, and I hope things will be adequately explained...eventually. But maybe not in this chappie. :D

Also, sorry to keep you waiting. I don't think I've gone this long without an update since I started this story, and it couldn't have been a worse point to leave off. (Especially since I specifically told some people it'd be up yesterday...ooooops!) Things have been a bit busy for me. :P Even tonight I ended up going out with friends, but took the laptop with me, and so this chapter was written in an indoor, man-made beach that my friend's father created in their house, and I think **mrit** and I are actually sunburned from the halogen lamps. Many thanks to her for being such a help while writing this chapter; you deserve much credit for everything!

Here be shout-outs! Obviously a lot of people asked questions pertaining to things that'll be explained in this or other chapters, so I'll refrain from answering them. ;)

**Kagome M.K** - Whoa, that's a new one. XD Will do!

**chocolatemercury** - All will be revealed. ;) And thank you!

**katiesparks** - Yep!

**Ohka Breynekai **- I can't tell you yet how he turns into his human form, really, but the question of his powers can be answered here! You'll recall in _Fanning the Flames_ when Danny and Sam had just been caught by Mr. Lancer; Danny turned them both invisible and then they flew off through the wall. He was quite human in this scene (and in the opening credits, when he pushes Dash into the locker) which gives me the impression that he can use his powers, or at least some of them, while he's Danny Fenton. He also tends to go invisible when human when playing pranks in the show. Guess the costume just looks cooler for fighting, or to hide his identity, or unleash the full potential of his ghost form. Who knows, but it was useful to me here!

**Anasumi** - I already replied to you via email, but again, thank you so much for your kind review. Hope you enjoy the new chapter!

**Crossover Fiend** - As long as the readers aren't as ticked as the heroine. ;)

Thanks also to **conan98002, A. Delashmit, Rebecca The Animorph, Epyon Zero, HAlFa34/Not Important, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Anomaly25, Soni, dArkliTe-sPirit, animeobsessed3191, starlight wishes, Galateagirl, wandering star, Jimmy the Gothic Egg** and **Leppers** for their comments. Sorry I couldn't give you all the answers yet, but that's what the upcoming chapters are for! n.n I hope everyone has a fantastic weekend, and enjoy your Easter holidays!

And, this chapter is dedicated to **mrit**, of course! May you continue inspiring me for the next 12,500 words at least!

Estrelas

Chapter 11

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Sam's eyes widened and she tried to turn, but found his hands clamped tightly on her shoulders again, and the tingling feeling of invisibility flooding through her. She looked over her shoulder. "Danny...?"

"Guilty as charged." He wouldn't meet her gaze, probably because of the growing fury on her face. "Listen, Sam, I'm sorry I lied to you--"

"_Lied_ to me?" she screeched, causing him to clap a ghostly hand over her mouth. "Mmph--"

"Shh - that ghost--"

She fell silent and fumed to herself, trying to sort out the events of the last few moments. The fight by the library, and then the boy in the forest - so that was Danny after all. But how? He was missing his ghostly aura, and his appearance was drastically different...and yet that was undoubtedly Danny's voice, minus the echoing sound she had come to associate with it. It had to be him.

He was sorry for lying. What did that mean? Lying about being a _ghost_? But that was impossible; she'd seen it all with her own eyes. Just what was he admitting to, exactly?

She jumped as an angry, feminine voice resonated from somewhere behind them. "Come out, come out, wherever you are!"

Danny stiffened, holding his hand firmly against Sam's mouth. He didn't move or speak, but she could sense that he wanted her to stay still - someone or something was looking for them.

_It's that ghost, _Sam realized with dread. _Spectra. But can't she sense us the way Danny sensed that ghost before? _She held her breath as the monster passed overhead, pulsating with black energy. It looked about, eyeing the lake and the small marble pillar that stood in the shade by the waterline, then put her hands on her hips. "Well, I guess he wouldn't be stupid enough to come _here_."

The ghost shot back over the boulder and into the trees, outside of Sam's vision, and after a long moment (he was holding his breath, she noticed, for it came out in one gasp long after Spectra had gone) he pulled his hand away and released her, causing them both to wink back into existence. She turned to face him, very slowly.

Danny, to his credit, was doing an admirable job of concealing panic. "Hi there."

She looked him up and down, hands on hips. "Okay, Danny, get out of that poor sap."

"Huh?"

"Out. I never figured you for the kind of guy who took over peoples' bodies, or was all that stuff you were saying about Inviso-Bill 'destroying your family' really true?"

"Uh...it's true in a sense." He looked embarrassed. "But there's something I've gotta tell you, and it's going to come as a big shock. I got my memory back, and--"

"And what?" she retorted angrily. "And you remembered all the terrible things you'd done? You think I wanted to know about all that?"

"It's not that, I was trying to protect you," he said desperately. "I didn't really--I mean, I kinda lied about some of that. I remembered some things about myself that I think I'd rather have stayed forgotten."

She backed away from him, out of the shadow of the boulder and onto the rocky, grassy area that lined the lake. "So explain. Fast."

"Okay," he sighed, looking extremely uncomfortable. "You're probably not going to like to hear this, but that ghost that's looking for me is _Penelope_ Spectra. As in, your psychiatrist."

Sam bristled at the word. "Coming from the guy who just admitted to being a liar, I don't know how to take that."

"Like I said, I was trying to protect you! Did you _want_ to go with that Ghost Squad guy?"

"That wasn't what I meant! Did you _want_ me to hate you by telling me all those things?"

"Yes," he said simply, looking away. "As I see it, it's better for you to hate me for a little bit now, rather than get tangled up in my life and inflict long-term hurt. I was right when I suspected before that there was more to this situation. I can't have any friends."

"What kind of nonsense is that?" Sam demanded. "It's not up to _you_ to decide who I associate with."

"It does if I'm the one you're associating with!" he cried, exasperated.

"Well, you could have said something like '_I don't like you anymore,'_ for God's sake!"

"But it wouldn't have been true. Listen, I'm sorry, but this is a really long story," Danny replied tiredly, his face showing clear signs of fatigue. "I'll explain it all if you'll just give me a chance."

"Without lies?"

"Does 'selective truth' count as 'lies'?"

"Yes," she decided. "I'm listening."

"Okay." He sighed. "You need to know about Spectra first. It may _interest_ you to know that she's actually a ghost."

"You said that part already," Sam pointed out acidly. "Now convince me."

"Fine. You'll probably find her in that book of yours, because she's been around for about twenty years, posing as a high school therapist. She's pretty good at disguising herself as a human, as if you hadn't noticed—" Sam scoffed-- "and her talent is to find out peoples' fears and feed off their despair in order to keep herself looking young."

"Hm…she does look a lot younger than my mother, now that you mention it."

"I don't know how she found you specifically," Danny continued, "but during summer vacations she and her assistant Bertrand – that ghost I was fighting with by the library – prowl around all the time looking for energy to feed off of, since they can't get anything from the schools."

"How does she stay employed if she kills children?" Sam asked, incredulous.

"She doesn't usually kill them, though there was this one incident fifteen years ago where she tried to kill a guest speaker at the school." He rushed on, cutting off Sam's question. "She's been involved with a ton of incidents, but they're never attributed to her. Mostly because the schools like to blame _me_, and whose word are they going to take, the therapists' or the _ghost boy's_?"

Sam narrowed her eyes. "Okay, I see your point."

"So as far as I can tell, Spectra went after you and tried to make you her next victim, but she figured out that you were involved with a ghost somehow, and goaded me into showing myself."

"Why would my mother have gotten me into something like this?" Horrified, Sam tried to think back to when she had first met Penelope, and the story the therapist had given her. College friends, housemates, hadn't she said?

"Maybe she never knew what happened to Penelope after graduation," Danny said quietly. "I never knew her until she became a ghost. Since she used her real name even after she died, Jazz and I were able to do some research on her, and found out she'd been killed in a car crash. Probably around the same year you were born, actually."

"My mother got pregnant with me just after she left school," Sam replied quietly. "I was born in 2003."

"That sounds about right." The ghost (if he even was anymore, Sam thought to herself with indignation) frowned at the grass. "She had a lot of issues she had to work through, it seems, so she stayed around and made herself a nuisance by preying on all the kids in town."

"Then…" Sam swallowed, not quite sure if she was understanding this right. "Penelope was the one making me so depressed."

Danny nodded slowly. The Goth teen crossed her arms over her chest, giving the idea serious thought. Penelope had been the one behind it…okay, that mostly made sense, because even _before_ she'd met Danny, the therapist had managed to make her cry, a feat that really hadn't been duplicated by many other people. She was a bit more inclined to believe that Danny _hadn't_ been behind her recent self-loathing, mostly because it was clear this Spectra had some similarities to Penelope (Sam couldn't believe she hadn't recognized the ghost's voice!), but also because something in Sam had been desperately hoping that Danny wasn't as evil as the book painted him as.

Despite the fact that he'd _lied_ to her. Sam scowled. "So, I guess you two don't get along very well, am I right?"

"Yeah," he confessed. "I've messed up her plans a few times. She knows I'm weakened from the fight with Bertrand, and she's probably looking for an easy opportunity to get rid of me now."

"Why didn't she sense you? And what did she mean by saying you wouldn't be 'stupid enough' to come here? What's terrible about this place?"

"She probably hasn't developed a good ghost sense." Danny shrugged. "I can't imagine why she wouldn't have sensed me in the attic, if not for that. As for why she didn't expect me to stick around here…" he sighed and pointed over Sam's shoulder. "Well…this is where I died."

Taken aback, Sam turned slowly on one heel to look at the spot Danny had indicated. Under the shade of a huge, drooping tree - a weeping willow, she thought - was a small marble pillar, about waist-high, with some kind of glass display in its centre. She looked briefly back at Danny, frowning. "This is the lake?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "I wasn't really aiming for it, I just wanted to get you away from Spectra, but this is where we ended up."

Leaving Danny standing at the edge of the forest, she walked closer to the shoreline, where the tree and the curious little pillar were nestled. It was obviously touched by age, the corners worn away by time and weather, but the words engraved on the top of the stele were as clear as the day they had been written.

_IN MEMORY OF_

_Daniel Jack Fenton_

_1945-1967_

_Beloved brother, son, friend_

_You will be missed._

"What is this?" Sam said, voice hoarse, knowing that Danny was too far away to hear her whisper. He didn't seem to want to get any closer to the memorial, instead having turned to face the lake, staring at the horizon. She laid a hand on the stone, running one finger over bronzed lettering. "From your parents."

"They were ghost hunters, of course," he said, just loudly enough for her to discern. "They would have hated to see me like this."

Sam bent down to look at the display situated in the middle of the pillar, its contents forever trapped under glass. There were a number of small objects and scraps of paper in the shadow box, but the framed photo in the middle was what immediately caught her attention, because of course it was Danny as he had looked in life. A school photo undoubtedly, for he wore a white shirt full of wrinkles, and a rumpled tie. He had messy black hair and big blue eyes, and displayed a goofy smile, as though the flash had caught him in a moment of unreadiness.

She turned to stare at the boy behind her, her supposed "neighbour", who seemed to be conscientiously ignoring her. The hair was the same, the eyes were the same - _like Jazz's, in the magazine photo,­ _she realized with a jolt - in fact, there was no denying that the guy trying so hard to look nonchalant about her reading his _obituary_ was none other than Danny Fenton himself, in the flesh. "Okay," she said slowly, crossing her arms. "Now I _really_ need some answers."

"Ah, so, you're not going to beat me up now. I hope." Danny grinned meekly.

"I'm seriously considering it."

The sound of an engine nearby caught their attention, though, and Sam paused with mouth open to try and locate the sound. "Is there a parking lot around here?" _What if it's those ghost hunters, going around on hoversleds or something?_

"Just over there." Danny pointed off to the right, and then disappeared into thin air, causing Sam to curse loudly at him. She cast around for someplace to hide, but being so far from the tree line, she opted to look very interested in the memorial instead, and hoped that the visitors were just tourists. Or something.

Something it was, because instead of a Ghostbuster, a lone woman appeared from the gravel path Danny had indicated, wearing a smart-looking grey pantsuit and carrying a shopping bag. Her hair was swept up in an updo, and she looked hurried, as though she had somewhere else to be. She didn't _look_ like a ghost hunter, Sam thought, but it never hurt to be careful. She edged back into the trees, but the newcomer was heading right in her direction.

"Oh-" Looking surprised, the woman stopped about ten feet from the memorial, finally noticing Sam. "I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

"It's no problem," she apologized, eyeing the visitor. She _looked_ like a regular civilian, getting along in age (sixty-ish, Sam thought; somewhere around her grandmother's age), with a careworn face. "I was just leaving, anyway."

"Come looking for a ghost too?" the woman said with a knowing smile. She gestured at the pillar. "I heard he'd been sighted in the area."

"Ah--yeah," Sam said quickly. No point in dismissing an excuse that had been so conveniently dropped into her lap. "I've never seen a ghost before."

"Consider yourself lucky," she replied, stepping close to the pillar to look at the engraving. "You must be new to Amity Park if you've never seen one."

"Yeah, I am," Sam said with relief.

The woman knelt down to look into the casing, rubbing at the dirty glass with the side of her hand. The window desperately needed to be cleaned. "It's a mess," she commented, peering at the photo. "You can hardly see anything."

Realizing that she hadn't actually looked at the contents of the shadow box, other than the photo, Sam also bent to look inside. In the spots where grime had been rubbed away, she could see various objects - a class ring, a yearbook, a folded piece of black-and-white clothing. Pinned at the background, around the picture, were small squares of white paper inscribed with short messages for Danny. Sam peered at the one nearest to her, a note printed neatly in typeface:

_Danny-_

_I'll miss you, man. You were_

_like a brother to me. Hope we_

_see each other again someday._

_-Tuck_

Sam smiled. So "Tuck" was the friend Danny had mentioned? She wondered if she'd have gotten along with this boy too.

"He was pretty well-liked when he was alive," the woman noted, tapping on the glass.

Nodding slowly, Sam didn't know what to say in reply. Instead she looked at the message below Tuck's, straining to read the scrawled handwriting.

_Hey Danny-boy!_

_Hope you don't become a ghost! _

_We'd have to go after you, and I'd_

_hate to do that!_

_Love, Dad!_

_(Jack!)_

The Goth's eyes widened. "What kind of epitaph is _that?_"

The woman laughed. "He was certainly a character."

Sam knew she meant Jack, but the words still put her on a slight defensive. "You...knew Danny Fenton?"

"Oh, yes." She opened the shopping bag and allowed Sam to see the bundle of flowers inside. "You could say that I'm the caretaker of this monument nowadays."

_Someone who knew him. Someone who cared enough to watch over the monument. It can't be—_

"No way…you're—!"

"She's my sister," Danny cut in, still very invisible. "Long time no see, Jazz."

* * *

-_to be continued..._


	12. Luminescence

This accursed story kept me up all night. And I freely admit to not editing it at all before I put it up, so I apologize if I missed anything major.

I updated my profile, in case anyone wants to know useless things about me.

Shout-outs:

Thanks to **starfruit-22, conan98002, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, A. Delashmit, starlight wishes, Galateagirl **(more subplots for you here!), **Kagome M.K, Epyon Zero **(sorry I didn't get back to 'Sam beating the crap out of Danny' in this chapter), **chocolatemercury, Hathors-Favorite, Ohka Breynekai, katiesparks, silvermoonphantom **(my rear is almost NEVER not-writing XD), **meeh, dArkliTe-sPirit, ShiroandFubuki, Zarz **(I like your theory, but I can't tell you if you're right or not!), **Flashx11** (sorry, that'll be one for the next chapter...), **animeobsessed3191, Anomaly25 **(Cute! Your almost-rhyme made me grin XD), and **mrit** (good god woman, you deserve a little credit, since I feel you helped, now take it I say...! also, gave much thought to Jazz's comical intro, still thinking.) for their comments, as usual, you guys keep me inspired! I hope I didn't miss anybody, I'm really sleepy.

This chapter was unplanned, but I sat up in bed at 8 this morning (after playing Animal Crossing until 7:30...) with the first lines in my head. And so I got up and wrote it. And so I'm so tired I think I'm going to die right here and now. Uh, happy Easter, also. o/ Enjoy.

Estrelas

Chapter 12

_by Shimegami-chan_

A/N: Yes, this is supposed to be in italics.

In case I confuse anyone; Spectra did not attack the school until about fifteen years previous to the events of Sam and Danny, therefore Jazz could not have found out about Danny in the same way she did in _My Brother's Keeper_. I chose to keep her in the dark about his powers.

* * *

_Seventeen stout candles lit the shoreline, nestled snugly amidst gravel and grass, their flames flickering in the dark. The witching hour was approaching; the full moon throwing its reproachful glare on the water of Jejune Lake. Halloween, the night owned by uneasy spirits. The sky was starless, an inky black. Ten minutes to midnight._

_Jazz Fenton didn't believe in witchcraft._

_She didn't believe, but she'd tried it all before arriving at this stage, a hastily-scanned book of fiction and the old wives' tales of ghost hunting setting the admittedly creepy scene. The number of flames for her brother's age. The time when paranormal activity was at its highest. The night all the spirits were afoot, and she was alone at the lakeshore, heart in throat, hoping against hope. If those who praised her genius saw her now, they would surely laugh._

_It seemed like an eternity ago. She'd gotten the call through the school, for she spent most of her days there, and even common technology like phones were nowhere to be found in the tiny archives building where she worked. The college had been constructed at the turn of the century, but this bothered Jazz less than her classmates, for at the sacrifice of technology she was granted her own personal case studies; wandering spirits of deceased students just begging to be analyzed. She'd never have admitted to practicing on her forefathers - no, Jazz's reputation was earned with her top marks in book studies, but that didn't mean that she couldn't help some of the resident ghosts work through their issues. It was they that had originally led her to believe that she could make a difference in someone's life, even if it was their afterlife._

_Jazz was had just finished her freshman year, but her work ethic and quick thinking had gotten her a summer job on campus, a position with the department of psychology, assisting summer students and faculty with finding research material in the archives. The building was a squat, windowless, airless box - but she loved it, because between visitors, she had access to all the research she could have ever dreamed of; all the books she could ever need. Even in the hot days of August, she worked tirelessly, her only gate to the outside world the narrow wooden door, propped open with a rock to allow in enough to breathe._

_The department head had been the one to appear in it that warm summer day, throwing his gargantuan shadow over Jazz's latest journal entry. "Miss Fenton, there's a phone call for you. In the main office."_

_Surprised, she had closed the book and tucked it under her arm, locking her other belongings in the archive behind the creaky door, and following the professor into the building that the psychology department called home. He led her into the spacious office on the second floor, where the receptionist stood nervously by the window, looking about for something to do. The gleaming black receiver was laid beside the cradle, waiting for Jazz to pick it up._

_She had a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. "Hello?"_

_"Hello, is this Jasmine Fenton?"_

_"This is she."_

_"My name is Gladys, dear, I'm calling from the hospital. We had some trouble finding you. You may want to come down here as soon as possible - there's been an accident."_

_Jazz held back a gasp. "My mom? Or Dad?"_

_"Both your parents are here, honey, but they're going to be fine. We just wanted you to--"_

_"What about Danny?" Jazz cut her off. "Did you call my little brother and let him know too? Daniel?"_

_The pause on the other end gave Jazz the chance to hear her heart beat three times. "It's really best if you come down in person and talk to the doctors."_

_She dropped the phone... _

_That had been almost three months ago, thought the Jazz who now stood at the lakefront, her hair highlighted by burning candles. Her parents had been okay; shaken up but awake when she'd arrived, after their sub had been destroyed by something terrible dozens of feet under the water's surface. They didn't remember a thing after the explosion. They didn't remember swimming to safety or crawling onto the gravel shore, as they'd been found, hand in hand. They only remembered explosion, panic, and then unconsciousness._

_They had lived and Danny had died, ripped apart by the force of the blast or drowned trying to escape from the sub, the wreckage of which was so deep that it couldn't even be recovered. Jazz shivered at the thought of her little brother's body trapped in the wreckage below. It was probably why he had become a ghost, she thought, and it was her duty to find him set his soul free._

_But nothing so far had worked. He'd only been sighted at night, at even then at completely random places in town, never at the place of his death. Jazz had spent uncountable nights wandering the streets of Amity Park, looking for a glimpse of him or even a rumour that he'd been spotted, but there was no pattern to his appearances, and never any attacks or other mischief that required intervention by ghost hunters. He didn't even _look_ like a ghost, many witnesses had told her_, _and very few recognized him as the drowned Fenton boy until they saw his picture in the paper or a magazine. Jazz had made sure, since she began her campaign, that every citizen of Amity Park would recognize Danny Fenton on sight. _

_She didn't believe in witchcraft or voodoo, but she did believe that if Danny's spirit truly did haunt the lake, Halloween was the night it was sure to show itself, and she wasn't going to miss this chance._

_The clock struck midnight._

_Jazz's heart pounded. She'd read various incantations and charms to call forth spirits, but they were long forgotten, washed away by the moonlit lake. The gentle ripples on the surface seemed like perfectly normal activity; movement caused by wind, not by ghosts. She wasn't sure if it was time to be disappointed yet. She hadn't even called him._

_Forcing back tremors in her voice, Jazz lifted her chin and asked for him by name. "Danny, if you're here, show yourself. It's Jazz."_

_No answer, no movement. She swallowed. "Can anyone hear me? Please?"_

_"Hello there, Missy." Something with a gravely voice spoke very near her ear. "Are you holding a séance? Do you mind company?"_

_"I'm looking for a ghost," the girl replied bravely, her fists clenched at her sides. The voice had an echoing quality, but it was rough and leery. She was beginning to admit to herself that she wasn't very good at this._

_"You found one," the voice purred._

_Jazz forced herself to turn around and face the apparition, which was humanoid, but grotesque in appearance. It had green skin and straggly, long black hair, and wore a malicious smile. "No, you're not who I'm looking for, so please just move along and I'll get back to what I was doing."_

_The ghost cackled. "You're funny! I like that." He drifted slightly closer and Jazz stepped back, soaking one foot in the shallow water. It raised an eyebrow and reached out a hand, offering assistance to the frightened girl._

_Another voice, its source invisible, cut in. "You heard the lady. Leave her alone."_

_Her attacker groaned, looking about for the newcomer. "Buzz off, I saw her first."_

_A much smaller ghost materialized behind the green-skinned spook's right shoulder, wearing a white-and-black hazmat suit and a scowl. "She's not up for grabs."_

_Jazz gasped in recognition. "Inviso-Bill."_

_"Jeez, what's your problem?" the first spirit demanded, backing away quickly. "Fine, I'll find someone else, then."_

_"You'd better not!" the smaller one cried, but not before the other apparition had disappeared back into the gloom. Jazz was wishing she'd thought to get the weapons out of her bag _before_ inviting every ghost in town over, but now the white-haired spook stood between her and the supplies, with lit candles forming a neat prison on either side. She bit her lip as the ghost's frown vanished and was replaced with a concerned look. "Are you all right? It's dangerous to be out tonight, you know."_

_"Uh...I know." She was more than a little taken aback that the spook hadn't attacked her, considering its reputation as the most dangerous ghost in town. Then again, maybe it didn't know she was the daughter of Jack and Maddie Fenton. _

_It kept staring at her, and the feeling of having holes bored through her by a ghost was really creeping Jazz out. The fact that Inviso-Bill's eyes glowed frighteningly really wasn't much help. "What's all this?"_

_She was so flustered that when he spoke it took a moment to parse the sentence. "Oh...I just thought it'd be a nice evening to come down to the lake and light some candles."_

_The ghost raised one black eyebrow._

_"What? It's not your business!" she sputtered indignantly. What did he want from her, anyway? If he wasn't blocking her escape route she'd be halfway home by now!_

_"Come on now, I thought you were supposed to be smart," it said dryly. "Top of the class or something."_

_"How do you know that?"_

_"How would I not? Don't you think I do research on the people who try to kill me all the time?"_

_So it knew who she was. That was fine, Jazz decided, as long as it didn't perceive her as a threat. That wasn't really much comfort, though, given the situation. "I guess so..."_

_Inviso-Bill frowned, and Jazz noticed its horrible glowing eyes were on her wet feet. "Are you going swimming or something?"_

_"No, idiot, I was trying to get away from the _ghost_." She rolled her eyes and looked pointedly at it. Maybe it could be shamed into letting her go without incident, Jazz hoped._

_But the reaction she got was not what she expected. Instead the spook blushed visibly and scooted back, allowing her room to step forward. "Sorry."_

_"It's...okay?"_

_"Listen, I know you probably think I'm here to hurt you, but I'm not," it said hurriedly. "It was only chance that I was walking by when that ghost attacked you. What were you going to do about him? Didn't you bring any _weapons

_"Of course I did, but I can't..." She trailed off, unwilling to admit the location of the ecto-guns she'd 'borrowed' from her parents. Maybe he'd want to steal them and reverse-engineer them or something._

_It sighed, exasperated, one step ahead of her somehow. "I don't care where they are; I don't want them. All I want to know is why you're out here in the dead of night, leaving yourself completely open to be attacked!"_

_"What do you care?" she shot back, at first on the defensive, but then suddenly recalling her newly-minted aim to work _through_ ghosts' problems with them, instead of against them. "I mean...sorry. I guess I'm overreacting a bit, I'm not used to talking to ghosts."_

_Inviso-Bill looked surprised. _

_"I'm trying to contact someone," Jazz rushed on, trying to arrange her posture to look as non-threatening as possible. "Someone who drowned in this lake. I think he's become a ghost."  
_

_"That guy?" the ghost pointed at the newly-crafted marble memorial that stood five metres to her left. Jazz realized that she probably ought to get into the habit of thinking of Inviso-Bill as a 'he' instead of an 'it'; as a former person who was probably still part human deep down inside. Even if _he_ was a troublemaker. Maybe if she succeeded with helping Danny pass on, she could turn her psychological prowess to other ghosts._

_"Yeah." Jazz didn't look at the pillar. "Do you know where I can find him? His name is Danny, Danny Fenton."_

_"I know him," Inviso-Bill said, fidgeting a bit. "But we ghosts don't really, uh, collaborate with humans so well. I don't know if he'd want to talk to one of you."_

_"You have to," Jazz said desperately, her hopes buoyed by the lead. "I'm his sister, and it's really important that I see him. Please?"_

_The ghost frowned. "I don't know. Danny is pretty secretive, he just wants to be left alone."_

_"I can't!" Jazz cried. "I've been looking for him for so long! I can't, I won't give up now!"_

_Inviso-Bill looked extremely uncomfortable. "Why?"_

_"You probably wouldn't understand," she replied with a scowl. "Do you remember what it was like to be human? Didn't you have family and friends who cared about you?"_

_"Yes..."_

_"Then how can you just leave that all behind? I don't understand how a ghost's mind works," she whispered, trying to calm down, but unable to compose herself completely. She was in over her head. _

_"When you die," the ghost said slowly, "you have to put that life behind you. Your family doesn't want to be reminded of what they've lost. They don't _want_ to see you roaming the earth, mindless with anguish, because they're trying to remember you fondly."_

_"Then why do you do it?"_

_"Why do I personally do it? Because I have to," he said with determination. "My job is to stop all the ghosts that have forgotten what they're here for, and make sure they don't interfere with the humans."_

_"But you're a ghost too," Jazz said softly._

_He shook his head. "I'm different...I'm the hero. Even if you won't believe that, I'm only here because I want to protect this town."_

_"You _did_ save me" she admitted begrudgingly._

_He smiled. _

_But she didn't want to believe that he was as benevolent as he sounded just yet. "So you really were human once?"_

_"Of course!" He looked almost offended. "All ghosts were, except for the occasional animal."_

_"Can I ask...how you died?" Jazz was almost daring to hope that even Inviso-Bill could be understood if you asked the right questions._

_But that question hadn't been the correct one. "I'd rather not say," he admitted with a slight frown._

_"Okay, if you say you're the hero, then why are you always causing trouble for my parents?"_

_His expression soured slightly. "Because people tend to only take notice of me when I'm the last one standing. I capture the ghost who's causing trouble, and then they walk right in, see the carnage, and blame me...I expect it, of course, but that doesn't help me get away any faster."_

_"You capture them?" she asked with interest. "With what? What do you do with them?"_

_"I put them back in the Ghost Zone," he replied, and both were conscious of the avoided question. "They get right back out usually, though, through your parents' Ghost Portal. It's kind of broken."_

_Jazz nodded slowly. She didn't really know enough about this particular ghost to argue his story, so she again changed tactics. "Could...Danny be in the Ghost Zone too?"_

_"No," Inviso-Bill replied firmly. "It's an awful place."_

_"Then where is he?" _

_"He doesn't want to show himself," the ghost told her, point blank. "He knows you've been down here all the time, calling for him. He's hoping you'll just forget about trying to make contact, and just move on with your life."_

_"I can't do that!" she retorted. "And Danny wouldn't do such a thing to me. You're lying."_

_"Oh, yes he would," the ghost said tiredly. "And you're not helping the situation by getting worked up about it. You're a bright girl, Jasmine, and you've got a long life ahead of you. I'm sure Danny would rather see you enjoying it than moping about him."_

_"You're heartless!" she shrieked, losing all semblance of control. "How can you tell me to just get over it? He's my little brother!"_

_"What, you think this is easy on me?" he shot back. "If you knew anything about the way I live you wouldn't be harping on me like this! I'm trying to help you here!"_

_"Well I can't know anything about the way you live, because you're _dead,_" she said heatedly._

_The ghost fell silent._

"_Yeah_," _he finally said, voice bitter. Something about it suddenly sounded very familiar to her, and Jazz's limbs seemed to turn as icy as the ghost. "Yeah, I guess I am, so I'll leave you alone now, then." He stood and turned his back on her before starting to walk away, back towards the road. Before she could speak he had turned invisible, leaving her alone in the darkness._

_Jazz leapt to her feet. "Wait! Please, come back."_

_He didn't respond for a moment, but Jazz could still feel a sharp chill in the air, diluted by the October breeze. He had to be nearby. "I'm sorry I said that. I'd like to keep talking, so please..."_

_She waited, heart pounding, staring at the spot where he'd disappeared. Suddenly Jazz felt very alone and vulnerable, a sensation that hadn't been present at all when she was in the company of the ghost boy. She clasped her hands to her chest. "Please come back."_

_He reappeared, slowly, as though fighting a mental battle over whether to show himself to her again. "If you're going to insult me..."_

_"I won't," she promised. "I just want to know more...like, what you meant when you said ghosts 'forget what they're here for'."_

_"It's just a theory," Inviso-Bill replied, his face suddenly serious. "It seems like the older a ghost becomes, the more likely they are to go evil. As the world changes, a ghost almost never does; staying the same and thinking the same way. When the world has transformed so much that a ghost doesn't even recognize it anymore--" he spread his hands "--they tend to forget to think altogether, and start lashing out at humans. I don't think they even realize why."_

_"That's terrible," Jazz whispered, her thoughts going back to her little brother. Would Danny become like that too? Would she someday see her parents shoot him down and throw him through the Portal? Already they were talking about giving up ghost hunting just to avoid such a scenario, but Jazz had never dreamed it'd really happen..._

_"Are you okay?" The spook leaned forward, looking concerned._

_"Have you been a ghost for very long?" she asked instead, avoiding his query. _

_He didn't take his gaze off her, instead leaning back only slightly, and his expression was troubled. "A bit more than three years." _

_That was common knowledge, Jazz supposed, but she didn't have the resources on hand. "How long does it take for a ghost to become...evil?"_

_"Oh," he replied, looking thoughtful. "That's a good question. I haven't been around long enough to see it happen to anyone in particular, but I get the impression that as soon as their former environment starts changing, the spirit it haunts starts to lose it. It really depends on the person and what they're haunting."_

_Jazz's stomach felt as though it had been poured full of lead. If her parents really _did_ swear off ghost hunting and move to another state, what would that do to the ghost-Danny? Would he degenerate as quickly as Inviso-Bill seemed to think? She bit her lip, trying to stay calm. She was a rational adult. There was no need to be upset...she was a logical thinker who would find a solution._

_But Jazz didn't see a solution, and the frightening concept was starting to make her panic._

_"Hey, what's wrong?" The ghost again; this time having moved forward and grasped her by the shoulders. The chill in his touch shocked her out of her reverie right through her autumn coat, causing her to look up quickly, and find a worried look on his face. "Are you all right?"_

_"No," she stuttered, and he withdrew, looking at his ethereal hands before returning attention to her. "I need to contact my brother as soon as possible, and I need your help."_

_"Why?" he asked warily. "I told you, he wants his family to remember him in life, not death."_

_"But I have to stop that from happening to him!" she cried, forcing back panicked tears. "I want to help him cross over before he forgets everything and goes crazy like all the other ghosts!"_

_At this, Inviso-Bill let out an airless breath and looked away from her, to Jazz's great relief. "I understand that you're worried, but you don't have to be. Danny isn't in any danger of becoming like them. He'll cross over when he's ready."_

_"You don't understand," she protested, glaring even though he was no longer focusing his luminous eyes on her. "My parents are thinking about selling the house and moving away. Danny's environment will change just like you said."_

_She had caught his attention. "Moving? What? Why?"_

_"We heard he'd become a ghost," she told him sadly. "My parents feel responsible for his death already, and want no part in hunting him. They don't want to see it, if he's caught."_

Responsible?" _Inviso-Bill repeated with shock. "You must be kidding me! Why do _they _feel responsible for his death?"_

_"Because they couldn't save him. I guess you don't remember much about your family, because you certainly wouldn't belittle mine if you did!"_

_"I remember my family very well, thanks," he said quietly, but she could hear anger in his voice. She'd hit a nerve._

_Jazz composed herself, curling a fist around the dried grass. "So now you understand why I have to find my brother."_

_"And if I say I can't help you?"_

_"Then I won't stop searching until I find him. I'll ask other ghosts; I know someone will help me."_

_"They won't," he said tiredly. "Not unless they think they can get something from you. Give it up, Jazz, and just move on. Danny will be fine, I promise."_

_"I don't believe you."_

_"God!" He ran a gloved hand down his face. "What's it going to take, then? This is everything I wanted to avoid!"_

_"I want to see Danny. That's what it's going to take to get me to leave you alone."_

_Inviso-Bill looked as though he wanted to make a break for it, but knew he had to placate her somehow. "You can't."_

_"Why?" Jazz demanded._

_"Because he's hiding, like I already said!"_

_"From who?"_

_"From you! From everyone!" The ghost threw his hands up into the air. "He's hiding because a ghost! He wants to be remembered _not_ as a ghost! Why is that so unbelievable? Jazz, seeing him is not going to make you happy; it's only going to make it worse. I can't do this, I can't, I can't!"_

_"I don't care what he looks like." Her imagination ran wild, conjuring a picture of a ghostly Danny that was as grotesque as the spirit that had attacked her earlier, with green skin and protruding eyeballs, hair wavering as though still submerged in lake water. _

_Inviso-Bill stared sadly at her, his terrible green eyes seeming to look right through her soul. "I should have known you weren't going to take 'no' for an answer."_

_"I don't care what he looks like," she repeated in a whisper, stepping closer to the spook._

_"He looks like this," the ghost said finally, gesturing with one hand at his body. "But this a disguise, because he doesn't want people to recognize him." _

_As Jazz watched in horrified fascination, two rings of light appeared at Inviso-Bill's waist and traveled up and down the length of his slight frame, transforming him as they went. When they crackled out of existence, there was Danny, just as he'd looked when she last saw him alive, except for the tired posture, the anguished expression. She hoped briefly that this Danny was merely an illusion produced by the ghost, but before he ever opened his mouth she knew; could finally place what was so familiar about Inviso-Bill's appearance and voice. She couldn't believe it, and yet she had to, because there he was._

_She opened her mouth to greet him, or scream, one of the two, but all that came out was the breathless question, "Why?"_

* * *

_-to be continued..._

A/N: And now, I am shot for not putting Sam in this chapter at all. And for making it all italicized. -proceeds to be shot.-


	13. Everlasting

Subplot liek whoa!

And theshout-outs...

**katiesparks - **Oh, no! n.n;

**Soni - **Thanks also for being my 150th review! I'm so glad that you're enjoying the story so much!

**Galateagirl - **Nah, I think Jazz is too relieved to see him to wonder too much about Sam's role in this, plus he has good reasons for being in her house, as you'll find out...

**mrit - **can be thanked for the opening line of this chappie :P

**animeobsessed3191 - **Maybe I'm just crazy? I don't have a lot of time on my hands, but I do have the inspiration to let this take up most of my free moments these days!

**Flashx11 - **That would be "b."

**Crossover Fiend - **Your poor brain! And I threw some more unplanned plot-thickeners in this time, too!

**Epyon Zero - **"Policeman for the living impaired," my God, you're awesome XD

**silvermoonphantom - **It's cliffhanger-tastic!

**wandering star - **Sorry to confuse, I meant she'd been kept in the dark up until that point!

**GhostAnn - **Two Tuckers! I expect you'll want to wait until I get to that part to find out why. :P

Millions of thanks also to **katiesparks, chocolatemercury, RoseGirl from planet Pluto, starlight wishes, Zarz, Anomaly25, conan98002, Esme Kali Phantom, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Lessien Sharpwind, nutte, leppers, dArkliTe-sPirit,** and **Sparky the Wonder Weasel **for your wonderful comments and death threats and all that. :P

Plus a shout-out to **Ami-chan/Scythe Zero** for reading this and putting up with my endless Danny-fangirlism, and for what you said today about this counting as 'work'. -big glomps!-

Finally...I can't believe I haven't shown you guys this yet. I was being selfish and keeping it for myself! **Plantman.EXE **illustrated a scene from Chapter 7 which is just just gorgeous; I nearly cried when I saw it. There's a link to it in my profile as well as one to her website, or you could copy-paste this link and take out all the spaces -

www . shimegami . com / ichijouji / dpizumifinal . jpg

Do I ever owe her! XD That picture is so being printed out and going on my wall. Anyway, for people who really like Jazz (such as myself), this chapter is for you. Also, if you like not being completely confused by this very detailed plot of mine, you'll be grateful to know that I'm about to answer most of your questions.

Estrelas

Chapter 13

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

She opened her mouth to greet him, or scream, one of the two, but all that came out was the breathless question, "...Why?"

"I know, I know I have a lot of explaining to do," Danny moaned, covering his eyes. "I can only take so much abuse, so can you _please_ hear me out first?"

Jazz sighed loudly and put her hands on her hips. "Danny. I'm not going to pretend I'm not furious with you, but come on, before we get to that part, I _am_ really glad to see you're all right. I'd thought...well, I guess I don't know what I thought."

"Thanks," the raven-haired boy said meekly, wiping his brow. "It's good to see you too. You've, uh, aged well."

"So have you," she said dryly.

Danny cringed, but continued to smile. "Before that, though, we should probably go somewhere a bit more safe. Ghost hunters and all that."

"Of course."

Sam was still staring in shock at the woman. _This_ was Jazz Fenton? She hardly looked like a woman of seventy-two years; still sporting medium-length, fiery orange hair that was held at the back of her head with a blue clip. Her face was careworn but she had a youthful smile and a bright azure gaze framed by cat's-eye glasses. Sam might have pegged her at fifty-five or sixty years old even after getting close enough to see the age lines under her eyes - this woman was clearly a makeup master that she could admire.

"This is Sam, by the way," Danny added with a clumsy wave at the Goth. It seemed that he was a little uncoordinated in his human body - Sam couldn't wait to hear his explanation for _that_. "She's a friend, so we can talk freely."

Jazz eyed the girl. "You said you'd never seen a ghost. You lied? Danny, how much does she know?"

"She lied to cover for me, she knows enough," the blue-eyed teenager said tiredly. "Now, can we please get out of here before someone sees me?"

The woman had the grace to blush and offer her hand to Sam for a quick shake. "Sorry about that. I still have that 'overprotective big sister' thing. Especially seeing how my little bro ran off for fifteen years without ever telling me where he was going." She glared at Danny, who cringed again. Sam approved; Jazz certainly knew how to speak her mind. She made a mental note never to get on the elder Fenton's bad side.

Danny, shrinking under her gaze, put on a smile and attempted to change the subject. "D'aww, you brought me flowers! I'm flattered."

Jazz rolled her eyes. "Come on, we'll take my car."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, Sam and Danny had arranged themselves on the couch in Jazz's split-level house, waiting for her to join them to begin the interrogation. Jazz's tastes was clear from her decorating; the walls in the living room were a creamy off-white and occasionally punctuated with a ground of framed certificates, newspaper clippings or portraits of people Sam didn't recognize. It seemed like she lived alone, but Sam didn't want to ask outright, and she couldn't take for granted the fact that the woman still used the Fenton surname as proof that she'd never married. The house was perfectly quiet, however, and wedding photos were conspicuously missing from the mantelpiece. Ignoring the phone, which was ringing loudly on the table, the retired psychologist set three cans of soda on the table in front of Sam and Danny and sank back into an armchair directly across from her brother. "Okay, talk."

Danny frowned and stared at his feet. Sam wondered who'd get their explanation first - probably Jazz, judging by her take-charge attitude. The violet-eyed girl could not help but get strange shivers when seated so close to her companion, so similar to their meetings in the attic, and yet the atmosphere was completely different. Dark to light, cold to warm, and in many instances on the Danny, he was like a negative image of his ghostly self. His attitude had changed a bit - it wasn't that she didn't like this slightly more outspoken, this _breathing_ version, but he didn't seem like the same Danny anymore to her. The fact that she was still pretty angry at him, Sam thought, probably had something to do with it, too.

"There's something Sam needs to be told about first," the boy said quietly. "Or, well, I guess she needs to see it to believe it."

"At this point I have difficulty disbelieving even the craziest things, when he says them," Sam dryly told Jazz. The older woman laughed, and then gestured back to her brother, ensuring that Sam's eyes were on him as well.

"Going ghost," he said suddenly, and Sam drew back in shock as the most extraordinary change happened right in front of her eyes. Two rings of white energy formed at his waist, so close that she could feel the sizzle of power emanating from them, and travelled to either end of his body, changing his form as they went. When the light had faded, suddenly he was familiar to her again, black-jumpsuited and white-haired.

"What the heck?" Sam blinked and stared at him. "How did you _do_ that?"

"_You didn't tell her you were a ghost?_" Jazz demanded.

"Ack! No! Go easy on me!" Danny protested, holding his arms up as though to wield off an attack. "She knows I'm a ghost, she's just never seen me change, that's all."

"I didn't know you _could_ change," the Goth said, still taken aback.

"Neither did I until Bertrand put a hole through me," he said grimly, leaning over to inspect his abdomen. The jumpsuit had reformed over the wound, and he prodded the area gingerly with two fingers, as though to ensure it wouldn't suddenly begin gushing ectoplasm.

"Didn't know?" Jazz repeated, confused.

"I started being affected by paranormal memory loss," Danny confessed, looking at his gloved hands instead of at his sister. "I, uh, kinda forgot what I was doing. I just didn't remember I could change back, until I was so badly injured that my body did it automatically."

Jazz looked horrified. "You forgot you could change back? For how long? Is this why you've been gone...?"

"I'll get to that. I need to explain the halfa bit to Sam first." Danny remained in his ghost form, somehow sensing that the change had put her at ease. He ran one hand through messy white hair. "This whole thing started when my parents were working on their first ghost portal. They'd built, pretty much, a machine that could become a gateway to the Ghost Zone, the area where ghosts naturally exist. Obviously nothing like the Portals people use nowadays for sending captured ghosts there, because the technology wasn't nearly as advanced back then."

Sam nodded and waited for him to continue. Danny sat back, crossing his arms across his chest, and she was surprised to feel comforted by the slight chill his solid form had taken on from the transformation back to being a ghost. "The portal...wasn't really working right. They'd pretty much given up on it, but I was always pretty good with fixing things, so I slipped in there one night to take a look. I hit some kind of switch and it turned on...and pretty much electrocuted me. We still don't really know how or even _what_ happened. When I woke up, I was just...like this. A ghost."

"Well, you thought so, at least," Jazz interjected.

Danny nodded. "I found out pretty quickly that wasn't all of it. I'm a _half_ ghost...something that those in the supernatural world have decided to call a 'halfa.' I'm the first one to ever exist, they say. Of course, now that the portal was working fine, a ton of ghosts started coming in through it all the time, and generally making a mess of things in the real world. I started trying to fight them off and put them back _in_ the Ghost Zone; since I'd been given these powers, I might as well use them, right? That was how I ended up becoming Danny Phantom."

"Inviso-Bill," his sister corrected, deadpan.

Danny scowled. "Okay, yeah, nobody ever _asked_ for my name, so they just made that up one time when I was on the news. I guess they were sick of calling me 'ghost boy.'"

"So then," Sam said slowly, thinking over what he'd just said. "You were involved in all those incidents because you were capturing the ghosts that had caused them."

"Yeah, and I usually got the blame for them, too," Danny replied sourly. "Especially if Val was involved."

Jazz winced. "Oh...have you read her book?"

"Sam has. I saw a bit of it." The ghost made an irritated sound.

"Valerie was a ghost hunter, though not a very good one," the ex-psychologist explained. "After she retired, she used everything she knew to write the book _Legends of Amity Park._ You probably noticed it was a bit biased, though I thought it was surprisingly libel-free. She was pretty objective."

"Fifty years of it probably mellowed her out a bit. I hope." Danny sighed. "Is she still around?"

"Oh, yeah," Jazz said unhappily. "She calls me whenever she revises for a new edition, checking to see if I'm dead yet and if Danny Fenton's ghost has been sighted and what-have-you."

Danny groaned. "Great, and now Spectra will have put it all over the news that Inviso-Bill is back. I can't go around as a human, and I can't be a ghost, either. Perfect."

Sam disconnected slightly from the conversation, deep in thought. After seeing the human version of Danny, suddenly she was beginning to have an inkling of what these past sixty years had been for him, but the realization suddenly crashed into Sam that if Danny had been a half-ghost because of a lab accident, the drowning accident was something else altogether. "Wait, I don't understand. You've been a halfa all this time? Then what happened at the lake?"

Danny picked up the soda and inspected it. "This can has a weird top on it. I hope they didn't mess with the formula again."

"The world of soda pop kept revolving while you were gone, Danny. Surprise."

For his part, the halfa was still trying to act oblivious, as though making jokes would detract from the severity of the situation. "I don't know if I like this 21st century of yours, Sam."

"Quit messing around and just tell her," Jazz sighed.

"If I couldn't make a joke out of everything," Danny said mildly, "I'd have a very boring eternity ahead of me, Jazz." Both women detected something strained in his voice at this; Jazz silenced immediately and nodded for him to keep going. "The accident at the lake was something even more complicated. And..." he paused. "It has a lot to do with the lies I told you in the forest today, Sam. I had my ghost powers for about three years before I noticed that something was seriously wrong with my human side, the something that is the reason why I'm in hiding now. I can't age."

Jazz opened her mouth to speak. "Danny--" But then the phone jangled again, and Jazz glared balefully at it, switching off the ringer.

The ghost had already frowned and angled his head slightly to look Sam in the eye. "I've looked fourteen ever since the day of the accident."

Mouth dry, Sam stared at him with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Somehow she'd known that he was going to say something like this, and yet she still wasn't prepared for the full impact of his words. Fourteen forever. And of course, ghosts didn't age, or the Phantom that sat beside her would no longer be a child, would never have those long, slender limbs and boyish face. This was him forever. And suddenly Sam knew why.

"You faked your own death," she whispered, clutching her hands together.

"Have you ever read _Tuck Everlasting,_ Sam?" he enquired. For a moment, she thought he was trying to change the subject, but instead of protesting, just nodded to indicate that she had. "I thought you might. There's a copy in the attic that belonged to your father - I must have read it a thousand times. It wasn't around when I was--alive--" he broke off and nodded as though to convey that he meant during his fully human life "--but when I first found it up there, it seemed like the author had written it expressly thinking of me."

"They lived forever," Sam remembered aloud. "And instead of it being wonderful, it was a curse."

"I realized that everyone around me was going to grow old and die while I watched," Danny continued, unable to keep a note of bitterness out of his voice. "I think I was sixteen when I finally realized it; that I hadn't gotten taller, that while my weight occasionally shifted because of what I ate and how much exercise I was getting thanks to ghost hunting, I wasn't developing the way I was supposed to. I was scared that I'd be made into some kind of lab animal, because I didn't think I'd really die no matter what tests were performed on me, and at the same time I knew my parents were going to find out about my ghost self if it kept up.

"The accident was really an accident," Danny said quietly. "There was a ghost - it was Youngblood - in the lake, and Dad wanted to exorcise it, and of course it attacked the sub - what could I do? I hid behind a crate and transformed and fought him, but it still got completely trashed, and I had to take my parents and phase out of there to bring them to safety. But when I got them laid down on the beach, I realized that this was my chance. I could take off and get away from all the worry that I'd be discovered. So I left, and I let them think I hadn't made it out." He swallowed. "You're probably going to say that it was selfish, and yeah, I've had sixty years to come to terms with that. I _was_ only thinking of myself. I was already so used to the idea of being a ghost that I hardly considered how my death was going to affect other people." He aimed a careful look at Jazz, who looked like she wanted to say something, but nodded for him to continue. "I hid out with Tucker for a while, staying invisible all the time, using my ghost powers to steal food whenever I was human long enough to need it. I had to go human sometimes, or I thought I'd just go completely crazy. And that was how Jazz found out."

"I never knew about his powers," the older woman explained. "Once we heard that people had _seen_ Danny, I thought he'd become a real ghost that would end up being a danger to himself and everyone else. That was when my parents gave up ghost hunting."

"And you became a paranormal psychologist," the Goth supplied. "To help him."

"That's right." Jazz laughed. "It was a pretty big shock to find out that he was all right after all. If I hadn't been so glad to see him, I probably would have punched him in the face when he went from Inviso-Bill, Public Ghost Enemy Number One to my little brother Danny right in front of me."

"She guilted me into revealing myself," Danny grumbled, trying to look begrudging and not doing a very skillful job. It was obvious to Sam that the siblings were still very close, despite the length of time since they'd seen each other. "And I guess it was a good thing she did, because my parents moved out pretty soon after that and put the house up for sale. If not for Jazz, I'd have lost access to our ghost hunting weapons, which were coming in pretty handy at the time."

"So how exactly did you end up in my attic?" Sam asked, looking from Danny to his sister.

"Oh my God, don't tell me you were in the attic the whole time. I _looked_ for you there, Danny, a lot!" Jazz glared daggers at him.

Danny supplied Sam with her answer first. "Your grandparents bought our old house, so once Mom and Dad moved to California, I moved back in. My parents sealed up the basement in the lab when they left, so it was pretty easy to live there and keep an eye on the Ghost Portal. I'd sometimes go up to the third floor and read the books up there or play board games, and eventually it just got to the point where I spent most of my time in the attic."

"There's a _lab_ under the house?"

"Yeah, I'll show you sometime," he promised, looking pleased that she was interested. Now that _he_ remembered the lab's existence, he was eager to get back down there and check up on the Portal. "It's really high-tech, considering when it was built."

"Okay." Sam smiled before catching sight of a light flashing on the phone with the silenced ringer. "Jazz--your phone again--"

"I don't get it, what's what all these calls?" The woman hesitantly reached for it. "Somebody really wants to talk to me, I guess." As she touched the receiver, though, a loud knocking sounded at the door, startling all three of them. "_Now_ what?"

"You're pretty popular, it seems." The ghost boy smirked.

"Danny, turn human," Jazz snapped as she strode to the door. "It's probably just the paper carrier again, I didn't pay him this week--"

But as she unlocked the bolt the door burst open, and a woman with dark skin and wavy silver hair was standing in the frame, out of breath. "Jazz! Thank God you're here! We need to talk, you'll never believe who called--"

Then her eyes travelled over Jazz's shoulder and into the living room, where Sam and Danny were eyeing the noisy newcomer with curiosity. Too late, Sam put one hand on the boy's arm to warn him that he was still visible, but he didn't turn his attention to her right away, instead staring hard at the woman in the doorway. She put both hands over her mouth. "Oh my God..._Danny!_"

"Valerie," Jazz seethed through gritted teeth. "Won't you come in?"

* * *

-_to be continued..._


	14. Justify

A/N: Another chapter mostly written on the fake beach. Discovery: I can't write romantic scenes with someone in the room, with a straight face. It's either dopey grin or unbridled embarrassment. Oops.

Sorry for taking so long with this one. I finished exams on Thursday, but on Friday my friends and I had an all-night all-episode DP marathon and didn't finish for sixteen and a half hours, and then I crashed, and then my friend came to visit from Ontario, and she'll be here until Sunday, and then Monday is my birthday...so I haven't had time, and I'll be short on time all week, but I'll try to keep updating as much as possible. There's no point in telling me 'we don't mind waiting,' because _I_ mind waiting. ;)

Don't forget to check out **Plantman.EXE's** illustration of the final scene from chapter 7! You can find the link in my profile!

**Epyon Zero** - Selfish admission, twice, now. XD

**L'ange-Sans-Ailes** - Val's hatred carries over from canon - you'll notice that the book mentioned Axion Labs a few times, more specifically the time Cujo and "Inviso-Bill" trashed it!

**Galateagirl** - Good God, no! Read on for some DxS goodness!

**chocolatemercury** - So far, he's not, but 'Stephen' was almost named 'Vlad,' just for kicks. Then we considered the implications of such a thing...

**RoseGirl from planet Pluto** - So did I, but it's just so sad... :o

**Ohka Breynekai** - Yup, he did! Since that was unclear, I guess I'll fix that in the final edit!

**HAlFa34 **- Sorry, I can't promise no cliffhangers, haha!

**animeobsessed3191** - Not a lot of time these days, sadly, but after graduation I will certainly be enjoying some vacation and writing/relaxation days!

**Anasumi **- Thanks again for your wonderfully large reviews! They're so well-thought-out and my ego just completely inflates. XD To answer a few questions, Danny's accident with the ghost portal took place when he was 14, and he stopped aging then, but it took a couple of years for him to figure out that something was wrong. At the time of the lake accident he was by all rights and purposes 17. Let me know if it wasn't clear enough, because I can definitely fix that in the final edit! As for Tucker, I haven't yet decided to include him (I hadn't even planned to include _Valerie_, the idea came into my head the same day chapter 13 was written, and within hours I had put her forward!), but in case I don't go into more detail I'll just let you know that yes, Tucker was aware of Danny, Tucker actually helped hide Danny between the time of his "death" and the time when the Fentons left Amity. Everything else about Tucker (both of them) I'll keep to myself for now just in case I do bring in more of his story!

**mrit** - You do not, of course, need a shout-out to know how much I appreciate your input, but here's one anyway! Beware!

Millions of thanks to **Sparky the Wonder Weasel, Crossover Fiend, conan98002, Anomaly25, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, wandering star, dArkliTe-sPirit, SilverstarsEbonyskies, Kagome M.K, Frost Mage, Fanficaholic, The Adversary** and **HokiPoki1213 **for reviewing the last chapter as well! Thank you guys so much, and I really hope you enjoy this one!

**Ami-chan, Zippo, Epyon Zero** and **mrit, **you deserve a medal for helping me relax and eventually focus. XD Playing with my hair certainly makes me write better. Even if it _looked_ like it was making me fall asleep at the time. Love you all!

(Finally, thanks to **Ed/Mega Man.EXE**, if you ever read this, for patiently sitting by while I just spent two hours working on this chapter! Sorry to neglect you!)

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 14

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Instinctively Sam shifted in front of Danny, blocking him from Valerie's view - a split second too late, she already knew, swearing under her breath. Behind her, Danny also mumbled a curse and laid a hand on Sam's arm.

The dark-skinned woman's eyes were wide. "_Danny Fenton?_ But that's impossible! Jasmine...what's going on?"

Jazz shut the door behind the newcomer and hurried back to the couch to intercept her before she reached the half-ghost. "Actually, Val, this is my...nephew. He's visiting for the summer."

Sam heard Danny breathe deeply once before he pulled away his hand and stepped out from behind her. "Hi there."

"Nephew." Valerie stopped a few metres short of the raven-haired boy. "What? Uh, hi..?"

"You must be Valerie," he said brightly, extending his arm, palm up. "I'm...William."

"William," Valerie repeated, looking slightly dazed. She shook his outstretched hand, peering at him over the rims of her glasses. "I'm sorry, I thought..."

"They say I look a lot like my uncle," Danny said with a brilliant smile. Sam noticed with surprise that his irises had shifted back to that familiar green. The sight of Phantom's intense eyes hidden beneath the human Danny's black bangs was striking and a little alarming to her - she supposed that their colour was one of the ghostly qualities he controlled. Probably.

"Wait a minute..._nephew_?" Val rounded on Jazz before either teenager could blink. "How's _that_ possible?"

Danny glanced at Sam and raised an eyebrow. Jazz put one outstretched finger against her cheek and cupped her elbow in the palm of her other hand. "Well, hmm, you know my little brother Stephen, right?"

"What? No..." Val looked incredulous. "You have a little brother named Stephen? You had two brothers?"

"Oh, I thought you knew," Jazz replied airily. "Then again, I don't really know if you kept in touch with my parents after they moved out West, did you...?"

Valerie just stared at her.

"I guess that's a 'no.'" Jazz's smile seemed genuinely apologetic.

"This is Sam," Danny added, capturing the Goth's hand in his. Warmth shot through her, and she fought back a blush. She tried to do the math in her head to support Jazz's story, but she found she couldn't concentrate on dates and generations when his fingers were so tightly wrapped around hers.

"It's a pleasure," Valerie said, still looking disbelieving. "I'm sorry, Jasmine, I didn't mean to barge in. I just thought you might want to know what I heard. Inviso-Bill was on the news just a moment ago--Penelope called me--"

Something in Jazz's eyes hardened. "Ah...I'd heard."

"Are you going to talk to him?" Valerie asked, sounding nervous.

"Well..." It was obvious to Sam that Jazz was trying to avoid looking at Danny. "I guess I have to. I thought he'd, ah, crossed over. Are _you_ going after him?"

"I'm retired," the other woman replied. "I've had enough of ghost hunting for two lifetimes."

Sam could almost sense the relief that washed over Danny, and she breathed a little easier when his hand began to relax. It came as kind of a surprise that this poor woman's presence made him so _tense._ He shot her a reassuring look, blinking twice with a slight smile on his lips. They weren't out of hot water yet, but the ex-ghost-hunter had bought the nephew story and seemed uninterested in stirring up trouble for Danny.

"I did say I'd try to communicate with Inviso-Bill if he showed back up," Jazz said in Valerie's direction, but more for Danny's benefit than hers. "William, maybe you should take Sam home while I go and deal with this."

"Sure," Danny said easily.

"And I don't want you getting into any trouble while I'm gone." She gave him a Significant Look. "I need to talk to you about something important as soon as I get back. Really important. So you'd better come back."

Danny didn't miss the message - it might as well have been a billboard. "Okay, okay, I got it. I'll be good." He smiled confidently at Valerie and, still holding Sam's hand tightly, led her around the couch and out to the porch. "See you later, _Auntie_ Jazz."

Jazz, covering her worry with admirable skill, just waved and offered them what could only hope looked like a maternal smile. "Have fun."

* * *

"Yeah, _we_ completely need to talk about something important as soon as I get back...something called 'Stephen,'" Danny grumbled as soon as he was out of the house, shoving his free hand in his jeans pocket. His eyes flared disturbingly before turning blue once more.

"It's not that bad a name," Sam comforted without really knowing what he meant.

"As long as it's not true." He looked away from her. "Another brother? How could _that_ be possible?"

"Well, when a man and a woman love each other very much...you ought to have learned about it in school, even if that was back in the fifties."

Danny's face turned purple. "_Sam,_" he warned reproachfully, but she noticed he made no effort to let go of her hand. "... Besides, it was the _sixties_."

"Ah." She couldn't stop herself from laughing. "Anyway, if you really did have a brother, I'm sure someone would have told you previous to this. Jazz would have mentioned it."

"I just get worried when she lies so quickly and so well," he sulked.

"As I understand, she's had to do a lot of covering up."

Mollified, he nodded, walking a little slower and running one hand through his ink-black hair. "I guess you're right."

"Danny, you never finished the story," she said a few moments later, noticing his thoughtful frown. "Why did you leave Jazz and move back into the attic?"

"Ah." He tensed slightly. "That's kind of complicated too...and it has to do with Spectra, so you might not want to hear it."

She scowled. "Oh, I do."

He sighed again, long and deep. "Well...by the time I met her, most of the ghosts in town were pretty contained. The Fenton Portal was closed ninety-nine percent of the time, and generally the ghosts that were coming through it either didn't know about me, or hadn't learned their lesson yet. Spectra fell into the second category.

"I was living with Jazz by then, after things had calmed down around here. I hate to say it, but without my parents to leave the Portal open all the time, the ghost problem wasn't _nearly_ as bad. Sometimes something would force its way through, or a new ghost would come into existence out in the real world instead of in the Ghost Zone, but in general hardly anything happened anymore. I'd kind of come to terms with the whole...eternity...thing." He frowned. "Only thing was, that, I think I was kind of losing my grip on my humanity back then. I hardly ever came out of ghost mode; it was so easy to stay in and not have to eat, not have to sleep, but to just hang there in the balance. And occasionally zone out so much that I'd realize a year or two had passed in between."

Sam tightened her grip slightly. "Then why aren't you a ghost right now? Why are you still in human form?"

He hesitated. "I don't really know if I want to go back to that just yet."

"I don't understand."

"Humanity..." he trailed off, tilting his head up slightly. "I never believed that I was any _less_ human after the accident. Just that I could change my body, I never thought there was any change to my mind. Maybe there wasn't anything at all, or it was just my imagination...I don't know if it was the degeneration, or just an effect of spending years and years in ghost mode without turning back. Somewhere along the way I started to care a lot less about what was happening to anyone but myself and Jazz."

"I think I understand." She didn't, completely, but her smile was reassuring.

"I think I was just steeling myself for the inevitable," he continued quietly. "I knew Jazz couldn't live forever. I thought about just letting some ghost destroy me completely, if they could, so I could go first. But I chickened out. And then Spectra showed up."

"When was this?"

"Fourteen years ago," he admitted quietly. "2006. She was posing as a school therapist at Amity Park High, my alma mater. It was Casper's centennial Spirit Week, so they made a huge deal of it, and because of who Jazz is - besides pretty much founding the paranormal psychology field, she had the highest scores in the history of the CAT, and was valedictorian of her class - she was asked to come in during Spirit Week and give a speech. She wanted me to go and see her."

Danny frowned, and Sam could tell from his expression, however guarded, that thinking about it upset him. "Spectra had been sucking the energy out of the kids ever since she arrived, and when it came time for the ceremony, there was _no_ spirit at all left in them. They were completely out of it. Her plan was to kill Jazz in front of the whole school, so that they'd be so depressed, she could feast on the negativity."

Sam put her hands to her mouth. "Oh, God."

Grimly, Danny continued. "I was in the back of the auditorium; I guess far enough that my ghost sense didn't catch her or Bertrand. And I almost didn't notice the huge lasers trained right on the podium where Jazz was speaking, until a split second before they were activated and took the stage right out from under her. The force of it hit Jazz just before I got there, and we flew back and hit the wall after I turned tangible again." A pause. "I wasn't thinking," he then confessed. "Spectra was watching the whole thing, and when I'd helped Jazz up she was already screaming that I'd tried to push their honoured guest into the blast. Never mind the fact that _her_ assistant set up the whole stage. But I lost it, and I grabbed Jazz and went straight back to the house and stayed human for days. I was so furious that I didn't even stop to figure out who the real culprit was.

"Jazz, of course, had the police knocking on her door not half an hour later, and had to cover for me while I sat on the roof, invisible and sulking. It was just like it is now - all over the news that the evil Inviso-Bill had orchestrated a terrible attack on Amity's most precious VIP. Worse, Valerie had investigated the attack, because she'd just published the first edition of her book, and she ended up getting _Spectra's_ side of the story, and got pretty cozy with the spook. You'd think Val of all people would have a sixth sense for ghosts by now." He sighed. "Jazz told people that I'd saved her, but Spectra was still controlling the school until Jazz finally figured her out and convinced me to go ghost and take care of the problem. After that, I--" he faltered. "Well...that taste of my human emotions was a nasty wake-up call after years of being just Phantom. All of a sudden the danger of losing Jazz was really real, not just from Spectra and the other ghosts anymore because she was in the Ghost Zone, but just from anything. She was fifty-nine years old then, and retired, and she didn't deserve what I was putting her through. All that time she'd wasted on analyzing me, trying to find some kind of a cure or a Fenton mechanism that could either take away my ghost half or at least restore my aging, was a complete waste, 'cause at fifty-seven, I still looked fourteen. The only thing that ever changed was my weight, and even that stopped when I didn't need to eat anymore."

"She never found anything at all?"

"I never gave her the chance," he said quietly. "I was only making her worry, and I was so selfish, Sam, once I had all those feelings bombarding me, all that fear I'd pushed away, I didn't want to see her get any older or cry over the family photos from when I was alive. I hated seeing my own picture on the television, being blamed for almost causing her death. So one day, I wrote a note to thank her for everything she'd done, and I left."

"Back to the attic?" Sam asked, her fingers tightening around his.

"Yeah. Jazz already didn't have access to the lab, because my parents had removed the door and sealed the entry with concrete. The only people who could get in were ones who could go right through walls - just me, essentially. I hid out there for a while, and then moved back into the attic. She found her way in sometimes; either with her real credentials or by slipping in the bathroom window, but I always hid, or was in one of my withdrawals. All the sensor equipment was locked away in the lab, so I guess she never knew for sure if I was ever there. Eventually, she stopped coming."

Sam's heart almost broke for Danny's sister. She couldn't quite wrap her mind around how someone could so easily leave behind those they loved, especially knowing how much hurt it had to have caused Jazz. She tried to hide her frown, but Danny could sense it without even looking at her. "I know it was terrible of me, Sam, and I wish I hadn't. I'm sure holding back my feelings was what caused the degeneration to start not so long after, and the worst part of it is, I felt so much better after I'd forgotten it all. It wasn't until I turned human again that I remembered _why_ I'd let myself forget. Then, it was even worse, because I knew I'd put Jazz through something terrible, and I couldn't stand by while she cried over my memorial again."

He fell silent, and Sam knew he wanted to say more, but was waiting for her reaction. Instead of recoiling, though, her first instinct, she clasped her other hand around the one that already held his. "Danny...I'm so sorry."

"Why?" he asked, confused.

Biting her lip, the black-haired girl avoided his intense stare. "You're saying you've been selfish, but don't you have the right to feel too? I can't imagine having to watch all of your friends and family die one at a time."

He smiled sadly. "I'd like to think that Jazz understands too, but I guess I can see why she wanted me to stay. She still thought she could help…and even if she couldn't, why couldn't I have been someplace where she would have known I was okay, right? I'm sure that was what she was thinking. But once I'd made the decision, I think I already started down the path of pushing those memories away." His voice broke. "Don't you see? I _gave myself over_ to the degeneration. I _wanted_ it."

"And now?" she asked quietly.

He flinched as if she'd slapped him. "Now I'm sorry. Now I wish I'd stayed. Before she even knew I was standing there, I wished I could take back the past fifteen years, because no matter how hard you try, regret isn't an emotion that can be switched off. And Jazz…I knew I wasn't going to stop missing her, or vice versa, so I really just brought it on myself." He paused. "And I hope you're not agreeing just to make me feel better."

Sam scowled, tightening her trip. "I can't believe you'd say that," she shot back. _Even if there's a grain of truth in it._ "Of course I don't think you should have left Jazz...not when she obviously wanted you there, and was concerned for you."

"Oh, good," he said, sounding relieved.

"But," she added gently. "I do think I understand what it's like to be overwhelmed like that. I understand that you just wanted to run away from the pain before it hit."

"Then you understand why I shouldn't get any more involved with you than this," Danny whispered, looking down at her trembling fingers. "Why I told you to stay away from me. Maybe something good could have come from it with time, but it'd end in heartbreak for us both."

"Go ghost," she told him suddenly, causing their slow steps to halt.

His azure gaze caught hers. "Why?"

"Just do it."

Expressionless, he activated his power, the crackling energy passing over her hands like a jolt of electricity. Sam felt the cold, ghostly feeling reverberate right through her body, chilling her to the core. Danny smiled expectantly at her then, but it was sad, defeated smile. "And now?"

"And now what do you think?" she asked, refusing to be the first to look away. "Are you emotionless? Do you wish you'd never met me?"

"Of course not!" he said, shocked by her bluntness.

"Then," she urged gently, "tell me what you feel now. Tell me if that ghost half really does have some humanity in it."

Looking pained and revealing his thoughts with just that act, he disentangled his hands and laid them on her shoulders. "It doesn't. He's just as dead as everyone in this town thinks he is."

She smiled despite herself. "You're lying."

"I'm not."

"You _are_. I can see it in your eyes."

"I'm not lying."

"So that kiss meant nothing to you."

She studied his face until it broke. "It did," he whispered. "And you do. But I can't do it, Sam. "

Shaking her head, she took advantage of his slumped posture to move close, placing one hand on his chest. He tried to shrink away, but suddenly one hand had caught the fabric of his jumpsuit and the other was on his face, touching it gently, just as he'd laid fingers against her cheek the night before. "Why not?"

He was cold to her, and not unpleasantly so, but to him she was like a white-hot star. Danny tried not to give into his temptation to throw aside his resolve and let himself fall for her. "Because you don't deserve to go through that," he finally whispered, miserably.

Sam shook her head and leaned forward to press her lips to his, not caring who might see her kissing the ghost boy right out in the open. "So why can't I stop myself from wanting it…?"

* * *

_-to be continued_… 


	15. Exposure

A/N: I apologize for the shortness of this chapter. I ended it when I felt it should be ended. And….

Danny Phantom - Fiction Rated: K+ - English - Drama/Supernatural - Chapters: 14 - Words: **50044** - Reviews: 213 - Updated: **4-25-06** - Published: **3-29-06**

…can we say…wewt. Personal goal achieved! Sorry also for the slowness in updating this week, as I mentioned in chapter 14, I've been a tad busy. It seems that some people weren't even expecting this one so soon; when I called **mrit **earlier the first thing she said was "You're working on a fanfic _on your birthday?_" (She may have been more shocked that I was, how shall we say, awake at 11 a.m. on my day off.) Indeed, I am 23 as of today. That's 23 years of spreading pure evil throughout the world! Mwa ha ha ha!

So, here's 15! Watch out for cliffhangers, but we're all used to that now, yes?

Shout-outs:

**Anomaly25 **– Right now Vlad's a no-go, I just don't see a way to bring him in that fits in well with what I have currently (originally I had merely intended to have him not exist, because Jack and Maddie's college days would have been in the 1940s…and how feasible would his accident have been then? It's hardly even workable in Danny's 1960s. XD) As for Danny's parents, unfortunately they have passed on. :(

**Sparky the Wonder Weasel** – I'm looking at about 18 chapters, now!

**Fanficaholic** – Sorry, can't say! XD

**conan98002** – Not so far! See my comments for Anomaly25 just above.

Thanks to **Crossover Fiend, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Galateagirl, Leppers, silvermoonphantom, Kagome M.K, Phantom of a Rose, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak, Pearl84, Soni, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, dArkliTe-sPirit** and **Rebecca The Animorph** for their reviews! Hope you're all still reading and enjoying!

Estrelas

Chapter 15

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Danny's mind seemed to go completely blank as Sam kissed him, open-mouthed, her eyes falling closed and grip on his jumpsuit relaxing only slightly. His cold cheek absorbed the warmth from her hand and it spread through him like fire, infusing his chilled form with heat. The first moment of contact seemed to last forever as a thousand anxieties hit him at once, ranging from fear of being spotted out here on the sidewalk in his ghost form, to helpless frustration as all his carefully planned arguments melted away. He knew he shouldn't, but he _wanted_ to kiss her back; wanted to make this work somehow, to erase the past sixty years and go back to caring about his own happiness once in a while. He knew he shouldn't let her get too involved with him; she had parents who (seemingly) cared and she was a clever girl, a pretty girl who no doubt would blossom and go far in life. She didn't need to be tied down to a boyfriend who could only pretend to be normal until people started to notice that he never changed…to a half-ghost who could never reveal his true identity to anyone. She could do so much better than him.

He couldn't. He knew, knew, knew it, but he so desperately wanted it, and suddenly he was kissing her back, not even caring anymore that it was mid-afternoon and they were standing on a tree-lined street of houses filled with people who could potentially be watching from their windows. _What's done is done,_ Danny thought to himself, trying to concentrate on the kiss rather than the train wreck happening in his head. He powered down in a belated attempt to be discreet, praying no one saw the crackle of energy wash over his hair and jumpsuit to return him to his human form. Sam twitched a bit at the feeling, but seemed to know without opening her eyes what he had done, and Danny then let himself forget all those worries and wrapped his arms around her, enjoying the brief moment of happiness.

Sam was the first to draw back with a long sigh, looking intently at Danny, whose expression seemed caught between confusion and bliss. She studied his face without speaking for a few moments, until he finally opened his mouth to say something, and she pressed her index finger against his lips to quiet the protest. "Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once more. I meant what I said last night, or this morning, whatever, about not giving up on people easily. Back then I thought you were a full ghost and probably a threat to yourself and the rest of the town at the rate you were losing your memory. So if you think I'm going to walk away because you're _not_ a ghost, you have another think coming."

"That wasn't what I was going to say," he protested, finally glancing around to check for spectators. Thankfully, the street was still empty, though he couldn't shake that feeling of impending trouble. "I just wanted to make sure you weren't just caught up in the moment. I don't seem to be very good at lying to you, and even telling you the truth about me doesn't even faze you. I don't get it. How could you possibly want to have anything to do with me, knowing what I am?"

"_What_ you are doesn't define _who_ you are," Sam replied softly. "And besides, even with only half the story, I believe that you were always doing the right thing. Being left behind to take the blame, like you said earlier. Why should I care if people don't like your ghost half? It just makes me mad that not everyone is giving you the benefit of the doubt."

"That's not it," he replied tiredly. "Leaving out the whole 'everyone in this town hates me' detail, I'm still half-ghost. Half _dead, _except that I can never die, not of natural causes anyway. You don't find that…I don't know, kind of morbid?"

She rolled her eyes. "Would I be kissing you if it was?"

"Okay, what about the aging thing? That's a problem."

Sam's expression softened. "I'll repeat myself _once more_ in light of…recent discoveries. I do not care about what other people think of me. And I'm not saying, not here and now at least, that what just happened is going to lead to a happily ever after for us. Yeah, you're part ghost, okay, I get it. But _if_ I happen to keep falling for you, that is _not going to matter._ I like you for you. You're sweet, considerate…and since you got your memory back, you seem to have even developed a sense of humour. I like that in a guy."

Danny blushed and looked away, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"So please stop trying to decide what's right and wrong for me. Have I thought this through? Hell no. But sometimes, Danny, you just have to let instinct carry you. I won't say 'no way' to something because its future is uncertain."

"Thanks," was all he could say in reply, fighting back a blush. "I guess maybe I thought about it _too_ much."

"Nah." Sam grinned. "If you had, you wouldn't have kissed back."

As they approached Sam's summer residence, Danny's thoughts were once again turned to all the what-ifs he was facing, whether or not his relations with Sam developed into something more than friendship. He had some resources that could help him survive if he tried to eke out a new human identity, but some things were still impossibly out of reach…and then there was the ever-present danger of someone catching on, and what would happen if anyone ever recognized him as being Danny Fenton. It would be kind of difficult to stay in Amity Park with the danger of Valerie still around, though if she'd bought the story about him being Jazz's nephew, maybe others would too. But then there was the problem of Sam…

Sam, who lived on the opposite side of the state. Sam, who still had a full year of high school left, and overprotective, overbearing parents. How would they react to a boyfriend who looked fourteen? He couldn't hope to pass himself off as _too_ much older, and of course Sam would continue to age. Either the people in her life would have to find out his secret, or any relationship between them would have to _be_ a secret. It was almost depressing, but in comparison to all his other worries, Danny found himself unable to focus too much on what fight the parents of a very take-charge person like Sam could put up. He supposed that he should leave that much, at least, to her.

If he stayed in Amity Park, Danny thought, he could fly down to visit her as often as possible. Or maybe he could just move into _her_ attic instead. Just because none of the options were immediately inviting didn't mean they weren't viable. He'd been in Amity all his life, after all. And it had been a long time since the city had any serious ghost trouble, at least nothing (outside of Spectra) that the Hunters couldn't handle. Maybe it really was time for Danny Phantom to move on to new territories.

He was still musing over these possibilities when they arrived in front of the house, his thoughts punctuated by Sam's sharp intake of breath. "That's my parents' car."

"Fantastic," Danny groaned.

"And _that_," Sam pointed at the red convertible sitting behind the Mansons' SUV, "is _Penelope's_ car."

"And next, I suppose you'll tell me that Valerie's in the living room window."

"It's not that bad yet. I hope." Sam winced. "I think it'd be better if you stayed outside. Or came in via a method where no one can see you, if you get my drift." She hadn't even finished the sentence before he disappeared. Sam continued to address the empty air. "What do you think? Go in the front door and give some excuse, or sneak in invisibly and pretend I fell asleep somewhere out of my room?"

"It's late," Danny reasoned, crossing his arms even though she couldn't see. "I don't think they'd believe you'd been in the house this whole time. Besides, who knows what Spectra's told them?"

Sam covered her face with one purple-manicured hand. "Great. I'll have to wing it. Don't take anything you hear in here personally, okay? And please stay somewhere where you won't make a cold spot."

"I know what I'm doing," Danny replied, a little huffily.

"Glad one of us does." Sam straightened her skirt and marched up the front steps with Danny several feet behind. She felt his chilly presence move away from her as she opened the door and kicked off her boots, shoving them to one side on the welcome mat. Maybe if she went right upstairs and pretended she wasn't _expecting_ a scene, they'd just—

"SAMANTHA!" A blur of yellow and pink floral print flew at her from the direction of the kitchen. "Oh my God! Where have you _been?_ Are you all right? We were just about to call the police—"

Sam squirmed out of her mother's grasp and flattened against the porch wall, trying to put some distance between herself and her hysterical parent. "I'm fine, perfectly OK, _what are you doing here?_"

"Oh!" Liza held a lace hanky to face and daubed away invisible tears. "Your grandmother called us when you disappeared, and then Penelope called, bless her, and told us about that _awful_ ghost! Oh, Sammiekins, we were so worried! Do you feel all right? Did it hurt you?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "No, he did _not_ hurt me, and Penelope has been telling you lies, thanks. Where's Grandma? I need to apologize for getting her caught up in this ridiculous farce."

"Now you listen here!" Liza cried, suddenly transitioning from grieving maid to thunderous matron. "I do hope you're not calling my best friend a liar!"

"I suppose I am," Sam said sweetly, pushing past her mother and taking the stairs two at a time. At the top was Grandma Manson, her eyes red and puffy, looking extremely distressed. "Grandma—"

"Oh, Samantha." The elderly woman threw her arms around Sam, and she felt a pang of guilt for making her relative worry so. "My goodness, child, I'm so glad you're all right. I didn't know what to think when I couldn't find you this morning—your parents have been absolutely frantic—"

"I'm fine," Sam assured her. "I promise, no one's done anything to me, and I didn't mean to worry you. I'm sorry."

Her grandmother managed a relieved smile as she stepped away and started to lead the girl down the stairs. "Thank goodness."

Sam turned to follow, still finding it hard to figure out the exact extent of damage control she was going to have to do. Her thoughts had just drifted to Penelope when the woman in question appeared at her mother's side. "Samantha!" She turned to Liza. "I'll have to ensure she isn't possessed, dear, you understand, don't you?"

"Possessed?" Mrs. Manson looked horrified.

"Who knows what that ghost might have done if he found her again?" Penelope made a face as though she'd just eaten a lemon. "It'll only take a moment, so just come along now—"

Sam pulled away as though Penelope was a snake. She _knew_ what the woman's touch was going to do to her now, and she wasn't about to let it happen willingly. "Don't come near me!"

Penelope _tsk_ed. "Now, now, Samantha…"

"I mean it." Sam looked at her with a glare that could have melted steel.

"Is she possessed, then?" Liza cried desperately. "At least tell us where you've been, Sammiekins!"

"I have been out socializing with my friend," Sam said matter-of-factly. "Who's a ghost, by the way, I'll get that issue out in the open first. He didn't possess me, he didn't hurt me, and he didn't take me away by force. I went of my own volition. How's that?" She was still reluctant to reveal Penelope's secret in front of her family – even with Danny there, she didn't want to take the chance that her parents and grandmother would be hurt.

"Friends? With the Phantom?" Penelope's laugh was hollow. "Oh, you poor dear, he really tricked you, didn't he? No, Liza, perhaps she's not possessed at all, but she doesn't need to be for that ghost to be affecting her mind. They drain away happiness, you know."

Her mother gasped.

"Oh, I know," Sam muttered through clenched teeth. "That some do."

She felt a cold touch on her shoulder, and Danny's voice registered in her ear. "_I can't tell if Bertrand is here or not. Definitely best not to expose her._"

Sam nodded her head slightly enough that no one else took note. She was more comforted, though, by the feeling of Danny's ethereal hands on her shoulders, giving her support. "You guys don't need to get so worked up about this. I told you that he didn't hurt me."

"Then why won't you let Penelope check you over?" Liza demanded, clenching the hanky in her fist. "Why have you been acting so strangely since you got here? Talking to yourself, spending hours in the attic, running away in the middle of the night – it's not like you!"

"_What the—_" Abruptly Danny's hands left Sam's shoulders and she felt him swiftly leave the hallway, the slight cold lingering in the air and raising goose bumps on Sam's exposed arms. She wondered what it was he had realized that had caused him to go so quickly.

Forcing back worry,Sam kept focused on her mother's shrill voice. "Really, I'm okay. I don't see why you're taking Penelope's word over mine, that's all."

"Oh, Sammiekins, we're just worried, don't you see? You've been so depressed lately, your Grandma says…there _must_ be something wrong! Won't you tell me?"

"There is," Sam replied impatiently, "but I don't want to talk about it right now, so _please_ let it go."

Thurston Manson had appeared in the porch beside his wife. "That ghost is being talked about on the radio right now, Liza, I think you should hear this…"

Sam's stomach seemed to drop into her shoes. _Why would Danny be on the radio? Unless Spectra tipped them off… _Sharing a fearful glance, Mrs. Manson and Penelope rushed into the kitchen to hear the broadcast, and Mr. Manson raised the volume to a level that was nearly audible in the hallway.

Dashing down the stairs, Sam skidded into the kitchen in time to catch the final few seconds of the report. "_—are still unknown, but anyone with information about Daniel Fenton or the ghost known as 'Inviso-Bill' should contact the Ghost Squad immediately via the following number, 555—"_

"Oh, no," Sam whispered, as his full name fell on her ears like a dropped glass shattering. Her parents and grandmother were still focused on the radio, but Penelope had looked over her shoulder to smirk at the Goth and the still-invisible ghost boy, whose hand was suddenly curled around Sam's wrist.

"_We've got trouble_," Danny whispered just loudly enough for Sam to catch, his voice strained. "_Somebody saw me transform._"

* * *

-_to be continued…_


	16. Caught in the Act

HEY WHOA! It's a nice shiny new chapter. Also, please disregard any statements I previously made about Vlad, because I have sudden need to throw him into the mix (though not in this chapter, sorry!), thanks to Valerie needing a source for her ghost hunting equipment and all that. Totally forgot until recently…oops.

Shout-outs!

**enigmatic penguin** - Thanks for the correction; it'll be fixed in the final! And good luck with your geometric penguin! XD

**animeobsessed3191** – It's just going to kill me to have to stuff Penelope at the end of this fic. I do so love hating her, she's so wonderfully evil!

**Divine-Red-Crayon** – Hey, thanks for your lovely comments, and for reading! I'm keeping an eye on your _Spider's Web_ as well; it seems we both have a taste for AUs with a little DxS romance. n.n

**Ohka Breynekai** – Would that be an invisible bill for a present, or specifically the ghost Inviso-Bill _as_ a present? Well, thanks in any case! XD

**Phantom of a Rose** – Wow, now _that's_ enthusiasm!

**Crossover Fiend** – Hehe, yeah, but they have worse things to worry about!

**Anomaly25** – Ah, but then this plot wouldn't be nearly as complicated! Sucks to be Danny right now! –hands the boy a shovel–

And bucketloads of thanks to **mrit, Leppers, Epyon Zero, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, SilverstarsEbonyskies, Anabelle Carter, Kagome M.K, Galateagirl, Fanficaholic, The Adversary, dArkliTe-sPirit, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Rebecca The Animorph, conan98002, HAlFa34, Realsmartz** and **BJA Fan** for reviewing! (I think it was the most reviews I've gotten on any single chapter! Whoa!)

And, thanks to those of you who wished me a happy birthday - I appreciated that a lot! I had a great day and got some nice gifts. Eventually I will turn some of my evil upon my new drawing tablet, and sketch some scenes from this fic, maybe. Bwahaha.

Hilariously, I have had to add many of your names to MSWord's spell-check, because I hate seeing them all outlined in red. XP

Finally, more thanks for the usual suspects; **mrit, Scythe Zero** and **Epyon Zero** for getting me all fired up about writing this tonight despite being up since 5:59 a.m. (Which is…over 22 hours now.) Somehow I made it through even without the second espresso. Hee!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 16

_By Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Sam's mouth fell open and she turned her head in the direction where she thought Danny was, her left hand moving to her wrist to clasp his. She hoped he could read what she was thinking just from her eyes. _This is my fault_.

"_No,_" came his whispered reply. "_It was going to happen someday. We can handle this._"

"That was the ghost boy you were associating with?" Liza demanded.

"Daniel Fenton…" Grandma Manson repeated in shock.

"Now listen to me," Sam said heatedly. "Danny isn't a danger to anyone. All those things that people say Inviso-Bill did, that was all done by other ghosts! Danny just ends up taking the blame because he's trying to _stop_ them; he's never done anything to hurt anyone!" She avoided looking at Penelope, knowing that it was too soon to let the therapist know how much she knew. Instead, Sam looked desperately at her grandmother. "Please believe me."

"Now see here, Samantha_—_" Liza began to snap, falling quiet when her mother-in-law laid a gnarled hand on her arm.

"I knew the Fentons," Grandma said quietly, shocking the others into silence. "That boy, Daniel, was the sweetest child you could hope to meet. His whole family studied the paranormal – they did a lot for this town. When the boy died, they said his ghost—" she broke off thoughtfully. "Dear me, that story's so confusing, I must have remembered it wrong. Well, if Samantha thinks he's harmless…"

"_I don't believe it,_" Danny whispered. "_She has to know that Phantom was around before the lake accident!_"

The elderly woman was still speaking, and giving Sam a significant look. "I'll give him the benefit of the doubt too. I don't think she needs to be punished for this."

"Of course she does!" Thurston roared.

"Punished for what?" Sam cried. "You want to _punish me_ because I made a friend? Or is it because he's outside my _social circle_?"

Liza's face closed up. "Penelope, dear, I'm sorry, but I think we need to have a family talk. Would you mind if I called you later to ask you some questions?"

"Of course," the psychiatrist said crisply. "Best of luck working everything out. I know you'll do the right thing." Sam hastily backed out of the doorway and into the porch, trying not to let Penelope get too close to her or Danny. The woman smirked at Sam again before she smoothed her hair and pranced out the front door.

"We have to call that number," Thurston was telling his wife. "Did you write it down?"

"No!" Liza wailed. "I thought you would have!"

"You're going to call even after what I told you?" Sam asked incredulously. "Why?"

"Sammiekins, I'll try to be gentle about this." The look on Liza's face indicated that she wished to be anything but. "We can't have you running around with a _ghost_. He could be dangerous! Who knows what terrible things he could do?"

"Honestly! Can't you take my word for once? You're my parents; you're supposed to at least _occasionally_ trust me to make decisions for myself." Sam weighed her options, tuning out the sound of her mother's shrill voice. If someone had seen Danny transform…well, that had to have been on their way back from Jazz's, perhaps someone living in one of the houses on the street they had stopped at. _Of course, if they saw Danny turn into a human, they probably saw me with him, too…which means that they may be looking for me. I can't let my parents give them any more information than they already have._

_They probably saw me kissing Danny…that's kind of embarrassing. _Sam felt her cheeks redden. Now wasn't the time for modesty, though. Since Danny's human self had been identified, that meant that either the witness knew a lot about ghosts and Amity Park history…or there was physical evidence, and someone at the Ghost Squad had made the connection. Either way, someone who'd done their research was sure to bring up the point that 'Inviso-Bill' had been around for three years before Danny Fenton's supposed 'death'.

_So…maybe they'll think first that Inviso-Bill, er, _Phantom_, is just _posing_ as Danny Fenton. It doesn't necessarily mean that they'll figure out he's part-ghost. Plus, Danny's 'ghost' was seen after his death._

Right up until Jazz Fenton helped him cross over…

"I have to go to the bathroom," Sam snapped, ignoring her mother's expectant look. "I'll be right back!"

Turning on her heel, Sam flew up the stairs and into the first door on the right, slamming it shut and turning the lock, and hissing, "Danny, come in—!" She then put as much distance between herself and the door as possible, backing up against the wall.

A split second later Danny appeared in front of her, still in ghost form. "What's wrong?"

"You have to warn Jazz!" Sam said, forcing back panic. "She's the one that supposedly helped you cross over! What happens if they try to question her?"

"Relax," Danny said, but his expression belied the words. "Jazz's word has a lot of power around here. In fact, they've probably contacted her already, and I'm sure she gave them a perfect alibi."

"I'm still worried," Sam replied, biting her lip.

The half-ghost shook his head. "We'll need to know what she told them anyway, if they managed to identify you too. How about I go back to her place, check on her and get the story?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. My parents will probably be grilling me for a while anyway…since Spectra's gone, I should be okay alone with them."

"And my ghost sense hasn't gone off since she left," Danny added. "So if Bertrand was with her, he's gone now, too. Still, let me get you some equipment in case they come back."

"Equipment?" Sam looked at him, confused. Danny just winked and dove into the floor, turning invisible as he went. The Goth girl took the opportunity to sink down onto the ceramic tile, exhausted, trying to calm her pounding heart. This, she thought to herself, was something she'd never expected could happen to her, not even when Danny Phantom first revealed himself to her in the attic that day, rescuing her from the Box Ghost. It was funny how fate worked out sometimes. For Danny, his fate seemed to be just one impossibility after another.

A moment later the halfa popped back up through the floor, his arms full of contraptions. "This is stuff my parents invented for ghost-catching." He tossed her an item that looked like a Thermos, which Sam deftly caught. "The Fenton Thermos. Uncap it and use the red button to activate it – it'll suck the ghost right in." Then he held out a belt-like item with green detailing and a small lock in the middle. "This is the Spectre Deflector. Don't put it on until I leave – every time I touched Tucker while he was wearing the thing, I got electrocuted."

"Got it," Sam replied.

"Finally, these," he held out his clenched fist and opened it, palm-up, to show her two small, green-and-silver objects. "Fenton Phones. They'll let me communicate with you from far away."

Sam accepted the items. "Hopefully my parents won't ask where they came from…I should be able to hide them behind my hair."

"You only need to wear one, if it's easier," he told her. Sam nodded and affixed one to her left ear, then arranged her raven hair to cover it. "Or just pass them off as earrings."

Sam blushed and slid the other Fenton Phone onto her right ear. _I don't know if that's romantic, or weird…or both._ She looked in the mirror. _They _do_ look like earrings, though. Shame I have to hide them._

"You'll be okay?" Danny asked anxiously.

"Of course." Sam winked.

He grabbed her hand and squeezed it, smiling reassuringly. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Shouldn't be long if I fly full speed."

"Be careful." Sam wished fervently that she could go with him, but another disappearance would just get them both in more trouble. She had to stay and find out exactly what Spectra's next move would be. "Let me know if there's trouble."

He threw her a mock salute, as though to prove how unfounded her fears were…but then he leaned close and kissed her on the forehead before dematerializing. Sam opened her mouth to say something, in case he had lingered to see her reaction, but closed it again with a slight smile.

* * *

Danny soared over the rooftops, confident that he could easily make it to Jazz's house on the edge of town in about ten minutes, maybe less. He hoped she was all right, and had told the authorities something convincing. Should he go in invisible, he wondered, and risk finding the Ghost Squad in the house, who could detect him in a heartbeat? Or walk in nonchalantly as green-eyed, looks-a-little-too-much-like-his-uncle "William Fenton" and risk the questions?

It was lucky that after years of being a halfa he had learned to conceal his ectoplasmic signature from the tracking devices while in human form, Danny reflected, or else he might have been in real trouble. Unfortunately, it only seemed to prevent man-made items from picking him up (after his parents had actually starting _using_ the Fenton Ghost Finder, it had been pure luck that enabled him to figure out that power before they tracked him down), and while it was immensely useful in hiding his ghost powers from Valerie while he was still 'alive,' he could easily be sensed by other ghosts, and couldn't activate the power as Phantom. Now _that_ would have been a useful trick.

Fortunately, Danny's ghost sense worked on Spectra and Bertrand no matter _what_ they looked like, giving him the advantage. The halfa kept alert to what was going on below him at the same time he turned his ghost sense outward to search for any spooks nearby. From a hundred feet up, activity in the streets of Amity Park seemed to be no more out of the ordinary than usual.

Until Danny's watch began to beep alarmingly.

He screeched to a halt in the air, eyeing the device on his left wrist, another of his parents' inventions that he and Jazz had tweaked for their own agenda some twenty years back. Fortunately for Danny, it functioned perfectly even after being left on the table in the sealed lab for so long; it was solar-powered and seemed to be working when he left the house, though it hadn't shown activity until now, when it was indicating a threat nearby. And, of course, there was only one person the watch had ever been able to track that was still around nowadays…

Danny glanced around, more exasperated than fearful, yet not really knowing what to expect. The device that alerted him when Valerie Gray was within two hundred feet of the watch was planted right in her battle suit, but that didn't necessarily mean she'd be wearing it. After all, she'd retired from ghost hunting, right? She probably just carried the suit around for emergencies, right?

And anyway, Valerie hadn't really _hunted_ Danny Phantom in a very long time. They'd somewhat come to a truce, the hunter and the ghost boy, not long before Danny had faked his own death. Since then, they'd had their misunderstandings, but all in all Val preferred to devote her time to the ghosts that actually harmed people rather than just inflicting collateral damage on the landscape, and she had even pitched in to help him on several occasions.

Danny was glad they'd come to an understanding. Val had been…a new experience for him, to say the least. They had dated briefly when he was in his freshman year, but she'd broken it off because her life was too hectic (not knowing that Danny knew about her Hunter persona, of course), and since then hadn't really spoken as much as Danny had liked. She was a nice girl…stubborn, but nice.

She'd grown up into a nice woman, too, but of course Danny couldn't say he really 'knew' her anymore, because all his interaction with her was as Phantom, and Val and Phantom didn't always agree on things…though they had co-existed peacefully enough until Spectra had entered the fray.

_You'd think she of all people would have portrayed me a little nicer in her book,_ Danny thought sourly. _But I guess I should just be happy that she didn't paint me as a complete villain, after that incident._

And then, there she was. Danny stared down into a vacant lot, a familiar scene in fact, the parking area behind what had once been the Nasty Burger. Now it was an auto-body shop, and the back lot was filled with cars waiting to be repaired. The red-suited ghost hunter was standing with her back to the building, looking up at the sky, with eyes trained right on him despite his invisibility.

The halfa cringed and touched a gloved finger to his left earphone. "Sam, can you hear me?"

"_Yes,_" came her short reply, sounding hurried. She was probably within earshot of her parents, though she hadn't been broadcasting, so things were probably still safe back at the former FentonWorks.

"We've got trouble – Valerie. I'll call you if things get serious."

"_Mm-hmm._"

Danny hesitated and stared down at the woman standing in the parking lot. She could obviously detect him somehow; he couldn't conceal his ecto-signature while in ghost form, and her suit had probably seen an upgrade or two since he'd been gone. She _looked_ unarmed (of course, with Valerie, that essentially meant nothing – who knew what kind of arsenal was concealed in there?), and didn't move to take out a weapon or fly up to him, if she still could.

_She's the age I should be,_ Danny told himself grimly. _She probably doesn't want a fight…but that doesn't mean I shouldn't be on my guard. _

In fact, it looked like a staring contest was _all_ Valerie wanted today – she hadn't so much as moved in the few seconds since Danny had stopped in the air above her. Deciding to take the bait, Danny eased down onto the ground, preparing for her to bring out the ecto-foamers, or worse.

But what issued from Valerie's mouth was not what he expected. "So, the world finally knows your secret, spook. But we're all hoping to hear the _details_."

"Uh…" was all Danny could manage. Of course Val would have heard what was going on, being a former member and _founder_ of the Ghost Squad, but he didn't think anyone would have actually put the entire story together. Not that fast, at least. He decided to play dumb for Valerie, first, and Jazz's situation would have to wait. "What?"

"So will you be filling me in, or do I have to beat it out of you?" Val clenched her fists threateningly.

Danny wished for a moment that he could see the expression behind the tinted faceplate of her suit, but the more he thought about it, the more alarming it seemed. The Valerie in front of him was _not_ the same classmate he had left behind all those years ago; she had lived an entire lifetime while he was drifting in and out of his own personal limbo, and her face was barely even familiar to him anymore. Concealed behind the Hunter's mask, at least, she seemed like the Valerie of old, the cocky fourteen-year-old who he'd fought and eventually befriended. The seventeen-year-old who had finally accepted what he'd been trying to tell her for three years, and struck a true truce with, on the grounds that they could help each other rid Amity Park of its ghosts. That Valerie had eventually evolved into someone he really didn't know anymore. "No, I think _I'm_ the one that needs to be filled in. I don't know what you're talking about."

Valerie put her hands on her hips. "Let's see, spook. I've got a few ideas, and I don't like any of them very much. One: Someone spotted you over on the east end of town, making out with some human girl. Then, magically, you turn from a ghost into a human."

_Back to 'spook,' I see. You'd think she'd talk like a grandma by now, but noooo…_ He supposed it was actually a bit of comfort that Val's take-charge mannerisms had stayed with her all these years. Danny sighed. "And you just took their word for it?"

"No," she said grimly. "Don't be stupid, Phantom, you know all eyes are on you whenever you show up. He got pictures…before _and_ after."

"Oh," Danny said dumbly. He hadn't really thought about the idea that someone might have gotten physical evidence. "Well…why does it matter to you who I kiss?"

"It matters," she spat, "when you're posing as my dead ex-boyfriend."

"Whoa." Danny held up his hands in a 'don't-eat-me' gesture. "Just a coincidence, probably, right? I realized that I shouldn't be out in public, so I put on a human disguise. Changed my hair colour and clothes. If it looks like someone you know, that's not my problem."

"Oh yeah? Since when do you have that kind of power?"

"You have no idea what kind of powers I have," he said dryly. _Or what handy little devices I've got, like the one I use to let me know when you're within a two hundred foot radius…_ "I've picked up a few tricks since you last saw me. And I _don't_ see why it's a big thing; don't we have a truce? You're going to just throw that out and accuse me?"

Danny noticed that Valerie's body language had shifted drastically during their exchange, going from apparent fury to something he couldn't read. She was standing with her feet spaced apart, as though prepared for attack, but had straightened up since he'd begun speaking, her arms dropping from the standoffish pose on her hips to hang at her side. Her left hand curled into a slight fist. "Maybe you don't get me, ghost. The guy _took pictures._ Digital pictures, and zoomed right in on your face. So 'just a coincidence' isn't going to cut it."

"What are you expecting me to tell you?" Danny asked, hoping to bait her. If she really thought he was Danny Fenton, she would probably have said so already…he hoped. The problem was, he didn't have any idea _what_ she thought. The halfa knew _he _wouldn't have been able to come up with any plausible hypothesis if he'd been a ghost hunter.

"I'm not so sure myself," Valerie said softly, and Danny was acutely aware of the age in her voice now, of uncertainly that was only thinly veiled. What logical explanation _could_ he give her? The hunter reached into a pocket and withdrew a small, white-backed square, looking from it to the ghost, who was desperately trying to keep his conflicting emotions off his face. "If you could disguise yourself as a human…why did you choose to look like Danny Fenton? Don't you know what the Fenton name means around here? You must…because you were around when he was still alive."

Danny was sure that if his heart could pound in his ghost form, Val would be able to hear it from the ten feet that separated them. "Uh…right. You know, really, I just thought 'Oh, a disguise,' and turned into the first person I thought of, which was Danny Fenton, because we were so close to his house."

"Oh, you knew where he'd lived?"

"Well, yeah, I do occasionally—"

"Try to keep tabs on the people who are trying to kill you, right?" Valerie's shoulders tensed. "Well guess what, I think there's more to it than that. Funny how I hear Danny's name getting tossed around for the first time in years…on the same day that _you_ happen to show up for the first time in years. There are a lot of unexplained coincidences, Phantom. You look like Danny. You _sound_ like Danny. And suddenly you can make yourself look human…by disguising yourself _as Danny._"

The half-ghost stared at her, completely at a loss as to how to respond. Was this it? Was his secret finally out? _All for nothing,_ he thought miserably. _All that hiding, it might have kept me out of the spotlight for a few decades, but that's nothing compared to an eternity trapped in those torture cages my parents designed for studying ghosts. I guess I may have to make a run for it after all…_

"The problem is," Valerie continued, so quietly that he had to strain to hear her even with his enhanced senses, "that _you_ showed up well before Danny died."

"So?" Danny hesitated in mid-plan, not really sure what she was getting at now. Did she suspect him of being Danny Fenton, or didn't she? The suspense was driving him crazy!

"So…this could be one of a few things. I haven't gone to the Squad with this yet, because I want to get the truth from you…by _wringing _it out of you, if necessary."

"Right." Danny rolled his eyes.

And then, she said something he wasn't prepared for. "I want to know whether or not you killed Danny Fenton."

"Say _what_?" Danny, at least, could offer the ghost hunter a very genuine look of surprise. "_Killed_ him? Why the heck would I do that?"

"Well, gee," she said sarcastically. "That's just what I'd like to know, actually! Maybe you killed him so you could steal his identity? What I was thinking was that maybe there never really _was_ a 'Danny Fenton'…maybe it was just you, the Phantom, all along, and then..."

The ludicrous theory had shocked the ghost boy into silence, allowing Valerie to continue, her voice growing more and more venomous. "I always knew there was something weird about him. I'd thought maybe you made up the persona of 'Danny Fenton' while trying to hide out from the ghost hunters, and I guess that could still be it. But obviously, that couldn't be the whole story."

She barrelled on, ignoring Danny's attempts to protest. "I don't know how long you've had this power that lets you pose as a human. I know that there had to be a _real_ Daniel Fenton at some point; no way could you have pretended for seventeen years straight…but I think I've got that figured out too." Even though her face was hidden, Danny could feel her glare right through the visor. "I think that at some point, after you came into this world, you saw Danny Fenton and thought to yourself, 'I'm going to take that kid's life.' Why not? You're a ghost; you can possess people. Why let yourself be hunted by the other ghosts _and_ us when you can just look like an everyday human, and pretend that you're alive?"

That stung a bit, but Danny was still preoccupied with the ridiculous story as a whole. "That's crazy."

"But it's possible. And I can't wait to hear your defence, when I'm done," she said acidly. He shut up. "So…all that's left for me to figure out is exactly _when_ you took over Danny's life. Maybe you were already him by the time you met me…but probably not, right? Danny was such a sincere, sweet guy in our freshman year. _You_ were busy causing trouble all over town."

The halfa winced, hoping she wouldn't bring up the mess that had happened with Cujo at Axion Labs. "You know I didn't—"

"_Shut it,_" she growled. "So, when I dated Danny, he seemed pretty average. Never really noticed a big change in him throughout high school, either…so what's that mean for you? Could be one of two things…could be that you were pretending to be Danny all along, during the time I knew him."

"Nope," the half-ghost squeezed the word in under her tirade.

"Or…you could have botched your attempt to take over his life, and accidentally killed him."

"No—wait…what?"

"You cornered him when there was no place to run," she said confidently, buoyed by the half-ghost's incredulous look. "In the sub, when he and his parents were exorcising something in the lake. Maybe they were even exorcising _you_. Maybe I was wrong about the first part, and you just decided to attack them when they were disturbing your final resting place – sound about right? You blew up the sub, but Danny died, so you lost your chance to overshadow him."

"Okay, and if I magically had my 'disguise powers' at that time, why wouldn't I just leave Danny for dead in the lake, and take over his identity right there?" the ghost retorted.

"Then that probably means that you _didn't_ gain that power yet. I've done my research on you, spook. You were a pretty young ghost back then, so it wouldn't surprise me if you didn't know how to." Valerie's hands were on her hips again.

Danny cocked his head and put his own hands on his hips, mirroring her pose. "And if _that's_ the case and I 'botched my attempt to kill him,' like you said, why on earth would I try to pass myself off as him years and years later? That doesn't make sense."

"_You_ don't make sense!" she hissed, looking as though she were ready to leap at and strangle him. "What, did you think that if you tried to impersonate him more than fifty years after he died, no one would recognize you? No, there's got to be more to it than that, and I'm going to get the whole story if I have to knock it out of you piece by piece! There's got to be a reason for all this, and it's personal, now. I'm through with you playing the innocent - I _know_ you're connected to Danny's death in some way."

_More than you know,_ Danny thought, but kept the sardonic comment and grin to himself. "Completely not possible. I'm telling you, it was an absolute coincidence."

"No. I think it's some ghostly phenomenon that I don't know about."

"For example?"

"For example…" she trailed off, as if deep in thought. "If, maybe, when Danny died, you really were there. And you did something to him that let you take on his appearance."

"What, you think I stole his soul or something?" As soon as the words had come out of his mouth, Danny knew he'd made a mistake. _I shouldn't give her any stupid ideas…_

"Why not?" she demanded, suddenly energetic again. "This town has a ghost that can control people with music, a ghost that infects technology, a ghost that haunts _boxes_…why not a vampiric, soul-sucking _identity-stealing ghost_?"

"Valerie, this is insane," he protested, squeezing his eyes shut and pressing one hand to his forehead. "I haven't stolen anyone's soul or identity. I don't have any kind of creepy power like that. And I _thought_ we'd come to an understanding; I helped you plenty of times, I thought I'd _proved_ that I was only looking out for the good of the people of this town. Why the heck would I go around killing some people and then saving others? It doesn't make sense!"

"I trusted you before," she replied quietly, "but that was before I saw what I did today. Everything I believed about you, I'm looking at in a whole new light now."

"What'll it take, then?" he asked tiredly. "I'm not going to admit to anything I didn't do."

"Turn into another human," she instructed.

He stared at her blankly.

"You have a power that lets you disguise yourself. If you want to prove to me that you have nothing to do with Danny Fenton…then turn into someone that's _not_ him."

_Uh-oh._

* * *

_-to be continued…_

A/N: I can predict what most of you are thinking: "evil cliffie!" Sorry, but it's instinctive, and I've been holding it back 'til recently! I just _love_ leaving it in suspense! But worry not, it won't be long before 17's ready…


	17. Marble and Glass

Hoo boy. If I'd suspected you guys wanted to shoot me for the cliffhanger _last_ chapter, I don't even want to know what you'll do at the end of this one.

Shout-outs:

**Galateagirl** – Nah, don't think so, that'd be too easy! Also, I don't think he can really do something like that, as useful as such a talent might be…

**Anomaly25** – The person who saw him, sadly, isn't of much interest. Just a regular joe. As for your other comments, well, I'd like to reply, but you'll see soon enough!

**mrit** – Yeah, I prefer the longer ones too, if I have the time and inclination…for this one, I just didn't want to do another scene change in the chapter, and I was finished with Sam, so I cut it off. Even you don't know what will happen! Ha HA!

**dArkliTe-sPirit** – All of his options look pretty bad, don't they? XD

**Ohka Breynekai** – Anything Phantom themed is fine by me, kekeke. And sorry for making you suffer on a cliffhanger…sorrier for the suffering you'll endure in between 17 and 18, though. n.n; Please don't kill me!

**WarpWraith** – Hey, that's fine, I like compliments much more than I like critiques, anyway!

**enigmatic penguin** – I've used it, yup, but only after the point when Danny regained his memory! (When he first explained to Sam what he was, in a sentence that I now need to rewrite because he called himself the 'first' halfa and now I'm throwing Vladdie into the mix…) I'm much more fond of describing him as the 'ghost boy,' but I use 'halfa' occasionally. Danny has lots of descriptive words. I wish I could come up with something other than 'Goth,' 'girl,' or 'teenager' for Sam, though. u.u

**Phantom of a Rose** – I get it, I get it! XD

**Leppers** – Poor Valerie, she's so deluded sometimes. :P

**conan98002** – Hm, I suppose I should have noticed that particular plot hole, but I'll chaulk it up to Val never having actually fought Spectra while in her Hunter gear. Spectra passes herself off as a human pretty well, and Valerie's ghost tracker is in her suit, so ostensibly if Val never encountered human-form Spectra (Penelope) while wearing her gear, she wouldn't know. Or maybe Penelope's just perfected that 'hiding from ghost tracking devices' trick that Danny uses…who knows?

And thanks also to **Esme Kali Phantom, HAlFa34, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak, Ice-Song, SilverstarsEbonyskies, Jimmy the Gothic Egg** and** Realsmartz **for reviewing! Cookies for all!

Also…according to Wikipedia, the Mansons have canon first names that are credited but never mentioned in the show. Does anyone know for certain whether or not this is true? Since it's Wikipedia, I'm a bit iffy (went ahead and used 'Ida' for Grandma Manson in this chapter regardless, though) but I'd love for it to be official. I really hate making up names for established characters. XD To quote the article, which is on the "List of _Danny Phantom _Characters" entry…

"_While not named in the show, they are credited as 'Jeremy' and 'Pam.'_"

Maybe by credited, it means named in the ending credits? Hmmmm. Do say so, if any of you know for sure!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 17

_By Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Danny's world seemed to just stop moving right there and then. Of course he couldn't turn into any other human but himself…and now, no miracle was going to show up and bail him out of this mess. He had a few options, but none of them seemed like they would prolong his freedom for any significant amount of time.

He could tell the truth, of course, but Danny desperately wanted to avoid going that route. Back when he was in high school, he'd come close to saying it so many times, but was always prevented somehow. As time went on, he realized it was better that way – Valerie was just too angry, too bent on revenge. She'd blamed Phantom for the accidents Cujo, a ghost dog who haunted the Labs had caused, and it took a lot for her to realize that no malice was truly intended. Later, after Val had struck her various uneasy truces with Phantom, Danny was even more tempted to reveal himself, thinking she finally understood that he was trying to do the right thing…

…only to eventually realize the truth about his existence, the utter futility of pretending to be a normal human…and throw it all away in a heartbeat, deep under the lake, with Youngblood's nasal laugh in his ears. Danny found it more than a little unsettling that he had never been able to see the pirate ghost after that day, though Amity Park still fell victim to Youngblood's childish tricks occasionally. He didn't want to think about the implications of it all.

His own funeral was the last time Valerie had come so close to finding out about Danny. With no body to lay out, his parents had chosen to hold the memorial service on the lakeshore, erecting the monument as testimony to their beloved son's quiet exit from the world. Danny, as Phantom, had watched over the entire affair, through Jazz's tearful speech and Tucker's solemn lifting of the red velvet cloth that covered the freshly-carved plaque. He had stayed until the crowd began to file away, without a dry face, not even on those schoolmates whom he hadn't always enjoyed a friendship with. Paulina Sanchez, his one-time crush, had murmured words of regret over the way she'd treated him before, and said a hurried prayer in Spanish.

Eventually, they'd all left, even Tucker, who had to have known Phantom was there watching. Danny supposed Tuck thought he might want to be alone, and he was mostly right. When the crowd had finished trickling away, Phantom (for he was trying to think of himself _only_ as Phantom now, and make things easier on himself) allowed himself to become visible and approach the pillar. He had laid one hand on the bronzed words and gulped at the finality of it all. _This is it. Danny Fenton is no more than marble and glass, now._

"Hey. What are you doing here?" He'd have recognized her voice anytime, even now, when she was obviously in an emotional state. He'd turned, and Valerie had been standing there in the clothes she'd worn to the funeral, a black skirt and sleeved blouse. She'd been crying, and her mascara slightly smudged her cheeks.

Phantom had glanced behind him at the stele. "Showing respect for a friend."

Valerie laughed hollowly. "He probably would have grown up to become a ghost hunter too, you know."

"No," Phantom had responded confidently. "He wanted to become an astronaut."

Val hadn't asked how the ghost had known that. Danny had grown up in the heady era in which dreams were in space, and loved to talk about the Gemini and Mercury spaceflight projects in school, at the height of their excitement. Many of the boys in her classes had also wanted to become astronauts. "I didn't think you and Fenton were so close."

Of course, everyone had known that there was _some_ connection between Danny and the ghost boy (a connection that had gotten Danny invited to a number of parties held by the popular crowd, because of Paulina's hopeless crush on 'Inviso-Bill'), but most assumed it was because he was a ghost hunter's greatest prize, and Danny's parents were the most famous ghost hunters in the city. "We're not, really. He's just someone who helped me out a few times."

He had wanted to tell Valerie the truth then, as he often did when they shared subdued moments like that. He hadn't been able to keep the frown from his face. But as much as the urge was there to let just one more person in on the secret, he'd known that of all people, Val should be the lowest on his list of confidantes. She had _only_ been trying to paste him for three years, after all…unabashedly, without ever giving him a chance to explain, and jumping to every conclusion that could make him look bad. Despite it all, though, he'd still considered her to be a friend, and someone who could be an ally to him then, when he had very few people to rely on.

Valerie's next words, though, had dashed this hope. "When I lay hands on the ghost that did this…" Her face closed up. "He'll wish he'd never been born."

Of course she'd meant Youngblood, but Danny's heart fell nevertheless. He couldn't tell her then that he'd lied all that time…he'd lied about _everything_. No amount of his friendship would have been enough to make up for all the deceit.

"Yeah." Phantom had finally said, his voice strained. "I hope you get him."

And now, fifty-three years later, she had. Danny held up his hands, palms out. "Now wait a minute. Why should I have to prove myself to _you_?"

"Because if you don't, I start getting mean about this," she said icily. "You're not the only one who's had a few upgrades in the past fifteen years."

Was she bluffing? Danny really had no way to tell. If her equipment supplier had the same anti-aging condition Danny had, it was possible that he was still providing Valerie with weapons. He hadn't seen or even heard about Vlad Masters since he'd gone into hiding. It was better that way, because Vlad presumed Danny was now a full ghost and out of his reach, and without Maddie Fenton to capture his attention there was no need for him to hang around Amity Park. Of course, assuming Vlad _was_ still around…

"I don't really care," Danny said truthfully. _I can take anything she throws at me. For God's sake, she's seventy years old, what am I worrying about?_

"So it's true, then?" Valerie's look, though Danny couldn't see it, could have melted steel. "You really _can_ only become Danny, aren't I right? You're the one who killed him?"

"I…" Danny's voice faltered. What if he let her believe that? He'd be wanted for murder on top of everything else. The Ghost Squad would be after him for things a little more serious than breaking and entering. But what other choices were there? The truth, convincing her of a lie, or fleeing Amity Park and not looking back?

He couldn't do that now. Not after so many years of protecting this city. It was finally time for the truth, Danny thought, as much as he didn't want it to come to this. He was sure that Valerie wouldn't be nearly as happy to see him as Jazz had.

"Well?"

"Heh." Danny ran one hand through his stark-white hair. "If you want to get technical about it, then yeah, I guess I really did kill 'Danny Fenton.' But there's a lot more to the story than that, and I guess it's time you knew it all."

He still couldn't see her face, but he knew he had Valerie's attention by the way her fists clenched. "I'm listening."

It was better, Danny thought, to say this as the person she remembered fondly, rather than as the ghost she hated. He materialized the energy rings around his waist and let them travel along his body, transforming into his human self. "Your theory is, um, really close, but also really far off. You're right about me only being able to turn into Danny Fenton. But that's not because I stole his soul or overshadowed him or any other nonsense." He sighed. "It's because I've _been_ Danny Fenton all along. I always have been."

Valerie seemed to have been stunned into silence, so Danny continued, talking quickly. "And no, I didn't kidnap him and pose as him, or invent him for my own purposes, and there was no mind control or anything involved, I swear. I wasn't even born this way. Danny Phantom…" he swallowed loudly, trying to calm himself down. Now that he was human again, blood was singing in his ears and his face was flushed, a result of nervousness and fear. If she didn't kill him on the spot, Danny wasn't sure _what_ Valerie was going to do.

"Danny Phantom is the result of an accident that I was in when I was fourteen, when my parents were working on the Ghost Portal," he continued bravely. "The power was switched on when I was looking around inside of it, and I was zapped by ectoplasmic energy. It…changed me." Danny looked down at his own hands. "It turned me into a half-ghost."

Valerie laughed, then, but it was a disturbing sound, hollow and without mirth. "Do you actually expect me to _believe_ that?"

"What?" Danny asked, dismayed. He'd thought she'd be mad, and want to know all the details, but he honestly hadn't counted on her not taking him seriously. _That wasn't in the plan._

"That's the most idiotic lie you could have come up with, ghost," she hissed. "And you have the _nerve_ to say it to my face while looking like Danny! I can't believe I ever trusted you!"

"If you trusted me, why don't you believe me?" Danny shot back angrily. "You can be so _dense_ sometimes!"

"Back off, spook!" Valerie shrieked, and an ecto-gun appeared in her hands. "Or we'll see what _this_ does to your little human disguise!"

"Bah," Danny said boredly, waving his hand in the air. He already knew that the worst an ecto-gun could do to his human half was send him reeling for a few seconds – he'd been shot accidentally by his father a number of times. "I'd like to see you try it."

So she did.

The blast took Danny full in the torso, but instead of the harmless tingle it usually produced, the halfa now felt as though a hole had been torn in his chest, a hole that was burning on the edges and paralyzing him with searing pain. He couldn't even breathe enough to cry out. He fell to the ground. Curling into a ball, Danny clenched both hands against the wound, feeling hot liquid spill out in between them. _Blood. I'm dying…how can I be dying?_

_I can _die?

_No,_ he realized. His thoughts were still far too clear, and his human heart was still beating, quickened as it were. Danny dared to look down at himself, afraid of what he was going to see.

His hands were covered with green goop. It wasn't _blood_ spilling out of the wound – if there even was a wound, the halfa realized with shock, noticing that his clothing was soaked with the glowing liquid but otherwise completely unharmed by the blast. The only thing he seemed to be losing was the ectoplasm.

"Well…that's not what it usually does," Valerie said slowly, approaching him with the smoking gun still clenched in her right hand.

"Aaaagh," Danny moaned, trying to speak, but not even sure himself what he wanted to say. "What…what…"

"It's a special gun," Val said confidently. "It forces out a ghost who's possessing a human. Though it's taking a lot longer than normal." She leaned close, taking a better look at the damage. "Are you _bleeding ectoplasm_?"

"That's what it feels like," Danny wheezed, jerking away from her touch.

"Huh." Valerie put her hands on her hips. "Well, maybe it'll just kill you."

"That'd be nice," he moaned, desperately wishing the explosions taking place inside his body would _just stop_. Whatever that weapon was, it obviously wasn't meant to be used on beings who had ghostly attributes permeating every cell of their body. Dazedly he reached up to his right ear and pulled the Fenton Phone off, clenching the little device in his hand.

"What's that?" Valerie snapped, taking note of his movement.

"A call for help." Danny squeezed the side of the earphone and it lit up with a flashing red LED, the item's all-around distress signal. He didn't know what Sam could do to assist him, but maybe she would be able to bring his sister, and Jazz would know what to do…

The pain was getting worse. _So this is what dying is supposed to feel like? Pass… _Unfortunately for Danny, he already knew that no amount of torture was actually going to kill him, but at the very least, his human side still allowed him to fall unconscious, and with one last pleading look up at the blood-red Hunter, he finally did.

* * *

The distress signal arrived at the Manson house in the form of a soft beeping in Sam's ear, a sound she could obviously pinpoint the source of but was still a little unsure of the meaning. She reached up to press on her earphone, activating a return broadcast. "Danny? Are you okay?"

After a few moments, she still hadn't received a reply. Sam frowned and got up off the bed, moving to the window to look outside, as though she might catch a glimpse of the ghost boy in the air. What did that beeping mean? Was it like a panic button, or worse? _Maybe the other Fenton Phones were destroyed_, she thought with growing dread. _Maybe he needs my help…_

But she was rather thoroughly stuck. Liza and Thurston Manson were downstairs in the kitchen, arguing over what they were going to do about Phantom. Sam's grandmother was pleading in favour of the ghost, but things weren't looking good. The only bright side was that Penelope hadn't returned, and the adults had sent her to her room for a while so they could decide amongst themselves.

Sam had a feeling that whatever solution they came up with wasn't going to be much good for her _or_ Danny.

A knock came at the door while Sam was still thinking at the window, the tiny communicator that was sounding the alarm beeping angrily in her palm. The left phone was still in her ear, but it was eerily silent, and though she pressed it and spoke the half-ghost's name many times, no reply was coming back. Sam stuffed the noisier earphone under her pillow and sat hastily on the bed. "Come in."

Ida Manson peeked in. "Hello there, dear. Your parents wanted to talk alone, so…"

"It's fine," Sam replied wearily. "I know how they are."

The elderly woman came in and shut the door behind her, sitting down on the purple duvet beside her granddaughter. "Samantha, I…I'm sorry for calling them. You understand that I was just worried about you, right?"

"Of course!" Sam responded, surprised. "I'm not blaming you for anything."

"I'm glad, I'm glad," Grandma said, relieved. "Still…I wish you'd been honest with me."

Sam began to pick at a loose thread on her bedspread, avoiding looking at her companion. "What do you mean?"

"About the ghost. I never thought you were talking to a ghost, Samantha," she confessed, looking pained. "I just thought…in between the medication for your condition, and all the stress, I thought there was something wrong with you."

"But you said you didn't believe in ghosts," Sam replied, trying not to feel hurt that her grandmother had thought she was crazy.

"You don't have a choice, living in this town," Ida laughed. "Everyone's had some run-in or another, especially years ago when the ghost attacks were going on. Even this house used to belong to ghost hunters, before your grandfather and I bought it."

"I know," Sam whispered.

"Thurston doesn't know it," the woman said with an unreadable expression, "but we always suspected the house was haunted. We bought it for an excellent price because there was a good chance that a boy who used to live here would come back to it after he died."

"Danny."

"Yes." Ida looked at her granddaughter thoughtfully. "Sometimes there were noises, and we almost moved out when we realized that I was going to have a child, but we never saw a thing. Your father was really the only one who ever suspected anything was amiss. And after Thurston married and moved out on his own, we thought the ghost had left for good."

Sam shook her head. "He was in the attic all that time." _And the basement, but it's probably best that you don't find out about that._

"I see." The elderly woman closed her eyes. "So who is it? Is it Daniel Fenton's ghost, or is it that Inviso-Bill character?"

This was the question that Sam had been praying she wouldn't ask. "Well…it's Danny…"

"I went to school with Jasmine Fenton, you know," Ida said, suddenly changing the subject.

"You did?"

"Mmhm." Grandma smiled at the memory. "She was younger than me; a freshman when I was in my senior year. I never really knew who she was until a few years later when the ghost attacks started, because her parents were always on the news back then, trying to contain the problem. There were a lot of attacks on Casper High back in the sixties, and I always thanked God that I graduated just in time."

_Attacks…people going after Danny, I guess, once that ghost portal thing had been opened,_ Sam thought grimly.

"Inviso-Bill was at the head of it all, they used to say. I never saw him in person."

"He was innocent," Sam told her, trying not to look agitated. "Danny said that Inviso-Bill was always stuck with the blame after he'd captured some troublemaking ghost."

"So how did Danny Fenton come to be Inviso-Bill? Won't you tell me?"

"I—" Sam broke off abruptly. Was there any point in denying it when he'd already been seen transforming? It was obvious her grandmother knew more than Sam had originally suspected. "Well…he was in an accident with one of his parents' inventions. It gave him ghost powers."

"And he's been like that ever since?" she questioned.

"Yes," Sam answered truthfully, hoping she would not be asked to explain the incident at the lake.

"Jasmine used to come here a lot, looking for her brother's ghost," Grandma said quietly. "Years and years after he'd supposedly left the human world."

"I know. I met Jazz just this afternoon, actually," the Goth replied.

Her grandmother regarded her with interest. "Really, now? My goodness, you really know more than I'd thought."

Sam held back a laugh. "So do you."

"I'll stop here, then, dear," Ida said with a knowing smile. "I'm sure Danny's asked you not to tell anyone, am I right?"

"Well, he didn't say so, but I'm pretty sure that his existence hinges on it being kept a secret." Sam couldn't keep the relief out of her face. It felt good to be able to come clean about some of the week's events, and the fact that her grandmother even seemed to _believe_ that Danny wasn't a threat lifted a great weight from her shoulders. Now, if only her parents could come to an understanding too, this all might work out okay.

_Unless Valerie's gone and done him in,_ Sam thought worriedly. The Fenton Phone was muffled by the pillow, but she could still sense its alarm demanding her attention. _Maybe Grandma could help spring me from my parents._

The bedroom door flew open and Thurston Manson strode in with his wife at his heels. "We've come to a decision."

"Don't you guys ever knock?" Sam protested, giving him an angry glare.

The blonde man shrugged off her ire and directed his attention at his mother, who was waiting expectantly for their announcement. "I'm sorry, Mother, but we're going to have to cut Sam's visit short. We're taking her back to Whipstaff where that ghost can't find her."

"_What_?" Grandmother and granddaughter repeated in unison, both looking at Thurston as though he'd grown a second head.

"We don't want to upset you while you're still recovering, Sammiekins," Liza said airily, stepping out from behind her husband. "So we're not going to hand your little friend off to the authorities. Yet. We _are_ going home, though, so get your things together. We'll leave in ten minutes."

"You can't be serious!" Sam yelled, looking from one parent to another.

"If you give us trouble, we _will_ call the Ghost Squad," Thurston warned, drawing himself up to look as large as his slight frame would allow. "Pack your clothes, Samantha. Now."

"I…" Sam trailed off, shocked and defeated. If her parents reported Danny, they'd definitely find out that the Squad was looking for Sam, too. And if they _caught_ him…

_How am I supposed to help him if I can't get out of this house?_

Evidently under the impression that Sam had admitted defeat, Thurston turned on his heel and left with his wife and mother in tow. Ida looked over her shoulder with a frown at Sam before closing the bedroom door.

The Goth girl cursed and shoved her hand under her pillow, taking out the earphone she had hidden there. Noticing that it had stopped making noise, she lifted it to her face and inspected the little device, wondering if it was broken, or whether someone had stopped the alarm on Danny's end.

_Maybe he's okay after all. Maybe he didn't realize he was sending out a signal…but no, he didn't answer me when I tried to contact him. There was definitely something wrong, but I couldn't help… _

She fought back that sense of helplessness that had been plaguing her ever since Penelope Spectra had appeared on their doorstep. _I'm so sorry, Danny, I couldn't get to you…_

And neither she nor Danny knew it yet…but someone else had.

* * *

…_dun dun DUNNN._

_--I mean… 'to be continued'…_


	18. Disposessiveness

A/N: Holy dialogue, Batman.

**Leppers** – Thank you! I'll keep the current names for now, and change them over for the final version!

**Anomaly25 – **I don't think I've ever enjoyed writing something so much. :P Even I'm impatient to see how this all will end!

… – I'm trying to be good! No cliffie this time, see?

**Animeobsessed3191** – And I completely needed to hear that pun. XD Well done!

**Ice-Song** – No, I'm finished now. :P

**Jimmy the Gothic Egg** – Yeah, I had; my updating has only slowed down recently because of real life, but I had been updating once a day or once every two days, when the story first started!

**dArkliTe-sPirit** – Er, well, you'll find out by the 4th paragraph…:P

**Divine-Red-Crayon** – Vlad _would_ be in the same predicament…though there's a different twist to each of their stories. The same kind of Plot Device that enabled Danny to get his powers without being covered in ecto-acne and all that, plus a few other variables that I'll explain, probably in the next chapter!

**Galateagirl** – I know, and I _still_ haven't seen it! -waits impatiently for someone to put it up for download-

**Ohka Breynekai** – Yes, I keep peering out my windows, looking for people screaming and carrying sticks. :P

**Littlekittykat **– No such thing as coincidence in this story. XD Thanks for the compliments!

**HAlFa34** – As you have wished it--!

And many thanks to **zero9g9, mrit, shukuen, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak, Phantom of a Rose, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, SilverstarsEbonyskies, Kagome M.K, conan98002, HokiPoki1213, enigmatic penguin, Fanficaholic, Epyon Zero** and** The Adversary** for reviewing! Sorry about the painful ending last time and the long wait in between. n.n; This chapter's shorter than I'd have liked it, but I'm still deep in thought about where to take Danny next!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 18

_By Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Valerie regarded the unconscious ghost boy with interest. Phantom had completely passed out after a few minutes of convulsing, white-faced and slack-jawed. His hands had relaxed finally, allowing the green liquid that coursed through him to pour freely out of the invisible wound in his chest.

"Hey! Get away from him!"

"Hmm?" Valerie turned and found herself looking at an elderly man with dark skin, thick spectacles and an angry frown on his face. "No, sir, I can't do that. This thing is a ghost, and I'm a member of the Amity Park Ghost Squad."

"I know who you are, Valerie." The man rolled his eyes. "What I _want_ to know is what the heck you're doing to Danny?" The man edged past her and knelt to check the ghost's pulse (something Valerie thought was kind of amusing, but she had to be more concerned with the newcomer). She frowned—there was something familiar about him...

"Wait…Tucker?"

"Who else?" He'd changed a lot since they'd seen each other last, but now the ghost hunter recognized his voice, which was as infuriating as it had ever been. She watched, open-mouthed, as he began to gently shake the ghost's shoulder to rouse him. "Danny? Danny, man, wake up! It's me, Tuck!"

"You want to—God! What the hell is with you?" Valerie demanded. "No question of what Danny, who happens to be _dead_, is doing here? How did you even find us?"

Tucker held up small green object for her to see. "He was wearing these. He sent out an SOS—and it's easy enough to track down one stray ghost when you've got a Fenton Ghost Finder. Now, would you mind telling me _what happened,_ and why he's gushing green blood?"

"Am I missing something here?" Val shrieked. "For example, why I'm the one shooting down this ghost for impersonating Fenton and you're treating_ me_ like I'm crazy?"

Tucker shut up and turned his head away, suddenly paying more attention to the injured teenager than his attacker. Again he shook Danny's shoulder, and getting no response, turned the ghost boy over onto his back and began inspecting the wound. As soon as the Danny lay still again, the ectoplasm poured out in twice the quantity, spilling all over Tucker's hands. The man cursed and tried to apply pressure to the iridescent area the liquid was coming from. "I, uh…I really don't know what to say to that. Were you and Danny just here talking, or something, and you happened to shoot him, or what?"

"That. Is. Not. Danny," Valerie empathized, stomping her foot like a child. "Have you completely lost it, or what? Danny died fifty years ago. That's _Phantom._ The _ghost_, you know?"

"Oh." Tucker frowned and looked down at the spook. "But he looks like Danny."

Valerie groaned. Was Tucker Foley completely senile, or what? She hadn't seen the guy in a few years, but this seemed like a stretch. He ought to be in a nursing home or something. "He looks like Danny because he was trying to convince me that he _was_ Danny. He was telling me all these crazy things after I found out his secret, saying he was a half-ghost, and all this—"

"Say what? He told you?" Tucker stared at her in disbelief.

"Told me—what, did Phantom tell you the same thing? Please don't say you actually believed that cockamamie story, Tucker Foley." Valerie glared at him.

"He didn't need to. I was there when he had the accident that turned him into a half-ghost." The man averted his gaze, keeping focused on the injured Danny. Valerie could see that his hands were trembling slightly.

"I don't understand," she said slowly. "How could that be?"

"If Danny finally told you the truth, then I'm not going to lie either," Tucker said, his face oddly pale. "Danny Phantom really _is_ Danny Fenton. He always has been."

"That's not possible. He's done something to you, he has to have," Valerie protested, clenching her fists.

But Tucker shook his head. "No. He was in an accident with his parents' Ghost Portal when we were in freshman year. We were messing around with it, because it was broken, and the power got turned on while he was inside. Ever since then…he's had these ghost powers. But you have to understand that he was never trying to make trouble, especially not for you, I swear it." Tuck's aqua eyes seemed to drill into Valerie's, right through her tinted faceplate. "He only kept it a secret because he didn't want you to hate him."

Torn, the hunter came a little closer to the halfa, who had begun to convulse again but was showing no signs of regaining consciousness. "I…well, that's _insane_. Who'd believe something like that? Maybe you're possessed, too."

Tucker shook his head. "No…sorry."

"Okay, if Danny really _was_ the ghost kid, then why does he fight me?" she argued. "Why does he do things like…kidnap the mayor? What about the time when he tried to kill Jazz? You can't tell me that _Danny Fenton_ of all people would try to murder his own sister."

"He was set up. He was framed. All those times, Danny got stuck with the blame for something that another ghost had done!" Tucker insisted, gesturing wildly with his free hand. "_Jazz_ knows he wasn't behind the incident at the school, why don't you ask _her_?"

"Maybe I will!" Valerie said heatedly. "I was just on my way _back_ to Jazz's, as a matter of fact…" She stopped short, remembering a detail of her meeting with the elder Fenton that afternoon. "Wait a minute…"

"What?" Tucker seemed more focused on Danny, who appeared to be coming around.

"There was a boy at Jazz's this morning, a boy who looked exactly like Danny," Valerie breathed. "Jazz said he was her nephew. I thought he _was_ Danny at first, but then I saw his eyes…and he had green eyes, just like Phantom."

"Easy," Tucker told her. "Danny can do that kind of thing anytime."

"I don't believe it." Valerie rocked back on her heels, stunned. "It's crazy."

Tucker nodded. "Crazy, yeah, but it's true. Danny? Hey, Danny--!"

"Sam?" the half-ghost croaked, forcing open his eyes. His pupils were dilated, almost to the point where they obscured the irises.

"Uh…no. It's Tuck. Are you alive, man?"

"Tucker!" Danny breathed in sharply, an action which apparently resulted in a great deal of pain. "Uh…so to speak, I guess. What—how—"

"You sent a distress signal," the dark-skinned man informed him, holding up the third set of Fenton Phones. "I still keep these things on my desk with the volume on blast. And who's 'Sam'?"

"_Where's Valerie?_" Danny hissed in pain, trying to blink his eyes until they focused.

The hunter crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm still here."

"Oh, great."

"Hey!" Tucker's voice was insistent—looking down, the ghost could see that he now had both hands flat on Danny's chest, stemming the flow of green goop that was trying to pour out of it. "Hate to be the one to say it, but do you have any idea what's happening to you?"

"No," Danny groaned, "but you could try asking Val."

"The gun was designed to remove outside entities from the human body," she replied mechanically. "Forcing ghosts out of the possessed."

"So what'll it do to a half-ghost?" Tucker asked.

"How the hell should _I_ know?"

"It hurts. A lot," Danny wheezed. "Feels like it's trying to rip the ghost half right out of me."

"Okay, so really it's doing what it's supposed to, just having a lot of trouble." Tucker made a face.

"So it's true," Valerie said suddenly, putting her hands on her hips. "You really are him."

"I'm sorry," Danny managed to say, not even knowing himself why he felt he should apologize. "I wish I could have said something before."

"Yeah, like maybe when I was crying because I thought you were _dead_?" she snapped.

"I was…er, I am, kind of…"

Tucker made an exasperated sound. "Can we maybe talk about your gaping chest wound instead, Danny? Hello?"

"Well, you haven't changed, I see." Danny laughed, but it turned into a gasping cough that caused him to curl up into the fetal position. "…ow."

"We can't exactly take him to a hospital. What do you think…?" Tucker looked at Valerie, whose face was unreadable behind her the mask. "Val?"

"I don't care," she finally said, her voice emotionless. "I don't care if he once was human, or is half-human, or what. He's still a ghost, and a ghost that right now I'm pretty ticked off with." She turned on her heel and marched out of the parking lot without looking back. "He can just be thankful that I didn't stick around to finish the job."

Danny looked up at his best friend with woeful eyes. "Oh, that was cold."

"She has a point." Tucker rolled his eyes and peered at Danny's hands to see if the flow of ectoplasm had stopped. It hadn't. "This is some reunion, by the way. I wasn't sure if I'd ever hear from you again. Where've you been?"

"Hiding in an attic, forgetting I exist," Danny said miserably. "Listen, maybe you should call Jazz—she might know what to do…" He turned over onto his back again, heaving for breath, both hands clamped onto his chest. "At this rate Danny Phantom will lose everything he's got."

"How do you feel?" Tucker worried as he brought Jazz's number up on his cellphone.

"It's not as bad as it was at first," Danny told him through gritted teeth. "Problem is that I don't really know what it's doing to me."

"Did you try going ghost?" Jazz's phone rang once, twice, three times.

"No," Danny replied, "but I will."

Distracted, Tucker watched the halfa struggle with his power, paying only half-attention to the telephone conversation. He explained to Jasmine where they were and what was happening as Danny lay on the pavement, half transformed, the most interesting abnormalities appearing each time he tried to morph to his ghost half. First he had reformed with black hair, then with distinctly green eyes, then with the upper half of his body in human mode. He didn't seem able to entirely turn into Danny Phantom, no matter how many times he tried. By the time Tucker returned the phone to his pocket, the result was a black-haired, blue-eyed Danny with no legs and wearing a white t-shirt over his black jumpsuit. "Ummm…well, at least you aren't bleeding anymore." As he spoke, though, green liquid began to seep through both fabrics. The ghost boy glared. "Sorry."

"Is she coming?" Danny kept trying, with varied results. Now his hair was white, but so was the jumpsuit, and his legs were still missing. "Gah,"

"Yeah, she's coming." Tucker sat down beside his best friend. "She said to stay put."

"We should have gotten that stupid gun from Val," Danny seethed, finally managing to make his lower half re-form. The ectoplasm was now bubbling through the white spandex of his suit.

A transmission on the Fenton Phones caught both their attention, before he could try it again, though; both man and ghost were still wearing the devices in their left ears when the line crackled and came to life. "_Danny? Are you there?_"

"Who's _that_?" Tucker asked, one hand moving to his head to reply.

"Let me." Danny coughed and raised his hand to his ear with some difficulty. "I'm here. Is everything all right?"

"_Yes! I mean, no! But what about you, did something happen? The Fenton Phone was making some weird noises earlier_."

"Uhh…we handled that problem. I think." Danny grimaced. "I'm mostly fine now. Are you okay?"

"_No._" Sam's voice sounded furious. "_They're taking me back to Whipstaff._ Right now."

The halfa's eyes widened. "What? Why?"

"_They agreed not to turn you in if I came quietly. Danny, listen, I don't want to go back, but I have to, or else they'll call the Ghost Squad and you know those guys will be looking for me, too! What should we do? Did you talk to Jazz?_"

"Nnnnnno." Tucker was pantomiming something that Danny couldn't really pay attention to. "I, uh, got held up. Jazz is on her way here now."

"_Should I go along with it? Would you be able to find me there?_" Sam asked worriedly. "_What if—ah—!_" Her voice was obscured for a moment by a rustling sound, as though she'd covered her ear with something. "_Seriously, it's polite to knock, you know!_"

A pause. Tucker and Danny both listened with held breath as Sam's voice rose an octave. "_No, I'm not!_"

_Who is she?_ Tucker mouthed. Danny waved for him to shut up, still waiting anxiously for the girl to turn her attention back to him. Obviously someone had intruded on her back at the house.

"_Oh, please,_" she said sarcastically. Danny hoped it was one of her parents and not Spectra, even more so when he heard her next words. "_Stay back! What are you doing?"_

"Sam!" he cried helplessly into the microphone. "What's going on? Can you give me a clue here?"

She did, after muttering a curse. "_Come on, Dad. Why would you want my _earrings?"

Dry-mouthed, Danny forced himself to sit up, pressing the earphone closer so that he could hear better. There were a lot of scuffling noises in the background, and much of the male voice speaking far away from the microphone was indiscernible, but it was pretty clear what was happening—Sam's father had seen the Fenton Phones and caught on!

"_Let _go_ of me! You have a lot of nerve! Dad!_" The scratching noises were so loud now that Tucker winced and clenched his fist. Danny continued to listen, hardly daring to breathe. If Sam let him get at her, he'd see instantly that the earrings obviously had speakers…and it wouldn't be safe to contact Sam while they were in his possession. Maybe they could even be traced back to FentonWorks.

The noises kept up for a bit, for so long that Danny could hardly stand it…and then suddenly stopped. He blinked and touched his ear to ensure that the receiver was still on, and it was, though Sam's Phones had stopped transmitting to them. Dumbly, he pressed the switch to mute his own transmissions.

"Well, then." Tucker lowered his hand. "New girlfriend? She ghost, or human?"

"Human, obviously," Danny said, not bothering to conceal his irritation. "She's living in my old house with her grandma. Well…she _was._"

"I notice you didn't deny the girlfriend comment," Tucker replied dryly, "but I guess we've got bigger worries. Besides the fact that you're still losing your ghost half all over the pavement."

"Yeah." Danny sighed. He hadn't even noticed that the goop was soaking into his white Hazmat from the waist down, causing his legs to glow frighteningly. "Her parents found out that she'd been spending time with me. They're not too happy about it."

"Hmmm…Whipstaff, eh?" Tucker said thoughtfully.

"You know it?"

"Yeah," the former geek admitted. "My son and his kids live there."

"You're a _grandpa_?" Danny couldn't hold back a laugh.

Tucker looked pained. "It was kind of hard to send you the announcements, man, seeing how I Jazz and I couldn't _find_ you."

"Sorry," Danny apologized again, looking away. "I was stupid. I've already admitted it."

"Whatever, it's in the past now." Tucker averted his eyes from the wound on Danny's chest, which was bubbling disconcertingly. For his part, the half-ghost seemed to have mostly recovered himself physically after the incomplete transformation, despite the fact that the injury was more apparent than ever. "So…this girl…"

"Sam," Danny supplied. "She helped me come to terms with all of this. And now her parents are going to drag her home, and I might never see her again…"

"You really _do _like her!" Tucker exclaimed excitedly. "Unbelievable! What happened to all that 'my human life is over,' 'I can never get involved with anyone,' stuff? You _told_ this girl you were a half-ghost? And then you admitted it to Valerie too? What's going on here?"

"I met Sam as Phantom," Danny explained. "And that's a long story, but I wasn't really thinking at the time about what I'd decided before I went into hiding. Once I got involved with her…Tuck, there's no going back now. She _accepts_ me for what I am. She…she accepted me even before she knew I was half-human."

"That's some girl," Tucker said, appreciation evident in his voice.

"But this could be it," Danny said miserably. "Unless she calls me on the Fenton Phones, I might never find her again. I've never been to Whipstaff. I don't think she even told me her last _name_. If she did, I don't remember it…"

"It can't be that hard to find out, if she was living in your old place," Tucker reasoned.

"Still…"

"Danny, come on. Sam can wait, can we just concentrate on making sure you don't die here?"

Danny glared at him. "Like I could."

"Sorry, sorry." Tucker placed both hands on the ghost boy's shoulders and forced him to lie down. "Get horizontal, you're less likely to aggravate it there. But the bleeding's slowing down, do you think it's stopping any?"

"No." Danny winced. "I think I'm just _running out_ _of ectoplasm_."

"Not really the kind of thing you can get a transfusion for. At least not one that'd be, uhh, sterile. We could always go into the Ghost Zone and raid a hospital or something…well, you'd have to do it, because I'm too old and feeble for hospitals. Er, adventures."

"Shut up, Tuck." Danny couldn't help but grin as he said it, though. He'd definitely missed his best friend.

"Danny!" Both of them turned their heads at the sound of Jazz's voice and accompanying footsteps. "Oh my God, what happened to you?"

The halfa knew he looked a sight. He was still half-transformed, white-haired and blue-eyed, and his jumpsuit's colours seemed to be inverted. Danny and Tucker could appreciate the irony of that much more than Jazz could, but it was getting harder to tell what colour the hazmat _was_, since it was coated in the glowing green substance. "Uh…hi?"

"Good grief." Jazz dropped to her knees and inspected the injury, which looked as though it might boil over and consume Danny's hands at any moment. "What did you say Valerie was trying to do to you?"

"She had a weapon that could 'depossesses'—er, should that be 'dispossess'? I don't know. Um, something to force a ghost out of a human's body. It didn't work."

"I can see that," Jazz said sarcastically.

"On the other hand, she took off after only shooting him once," Tucker said brightly. "I think he's doing pretty well, all things considered."

Jazz was taking stock of the botched transformation. "Did she short you out or something? What's with your suit? Where's your aura? You're not glowing at all."

"Sure I am; all this ectoplasm is probably enough to light up a whole house," Danny said through gritted teeth.

"He can't go ghost," Tucker said helpfully.

"At least not completely," Danny added. "Here—let me try again—" He concentrated on Phantom, visualizing the familiar visage and feeling of ethereal power that had coursed through his veins. But when the transformation rings cleared and the crackle of energy faded, he was back in his human form, without so much as a hint of ghostly attributes. "Er…that wasn't what I was going for."

He tried again, and this time when the rings had disappeared, there was no change whatsoever, except for his eyes, which were an iridescent green.

"Hey, at least you stopped bleeding," Tucker pointed out. "How's the pain?"

"Gone," Danny confirmed, though a gentle prodding at his chest alerted him that something was still amiss. Perhaps he really _had_ just run out of ectoplasm to expel. _Whatever that means._

"So you can't transform at all?" Jazz inquired.

Danny blinked, and his eyes reverted back to blue. "Uh…I guess not. A temporary side-effect?"

"You'd better _hope_ it's temporary." The retired psychologist sighed. "What happens if it's permanent? If you can never go ghost again?"

Never go ghost again_…_it was terrifying. Go on living like this, forever, unable to die? Could he even cross over if he couldn't access his ghost side? The thought made Danny sick. What would happen to Amity Park without him…? "Okay, then…we have to find some way to fix it."

"Well, I'm open to suggestions!" Jazz said, obviously distressed. "Especially considering that the entire town knows you're Phantom now!"

"They _what_?" Tucker stared at Jazz in disbelief.

"This guy was _photographed_ kissing his very human girlfriend out in the middle of the street!" She jerked a thumb at Danny, who blushed. "And when, exactly, were you going to let me in on the fact that Sam was more than just a friend, huh?"

The halfa held his hands up in defense. "Okay, I admit it, I screwed up! And she's _not_ my girlfriend, though I was hoping she could be eventually. As much as I'd like to discuss that, figuring out this weird injury is probably going to have to come first!"

"I can't believe you're getting a girl _now_. Does she know you're like, four decades older than her?"

"Tucker!"

Jazz intervened, rolling her eyes. "And how old are _you_, Tucker? Just because Danny's acting like a teenager doesn't mean you have to follow his example."

"I'm an old man. I have a right to be crotchety and obscene now."

"_Tucker._"

"All right, all right." The dark-skinned man helped Danny unsteadily to his feet. "So what should we do?"

"Do you think you could figure out that weapon, if we could get it?" Jazz asked.

Tucker shrugged. "It's worth a try."

"Well, we don't have a lot of time to work with. There's no telling who'll be showing up on my doorstep once they remember Danny's connection to me…and without his ghost powers, it's a little harder to be discreet. Danny, can you walk?"

"Yeah." The half-ghost looked down at himself disbelievingly. "I _feel_ fine now, physically, just a bit exhausted. And I feel cold—" he held a hand over his chest "—right here."

"Okay." Jazz sighed. "Come on, let's go see Valerie."

Danny groaned. "Do I have to?" The idea of actively seeking out Valerie didn't exactly sound great to him, considering that their _last_ encounter had ended in him getting shot. Though, in retrospect, he had kind of goaded her into doing it, thinking it wouldn't affect him. _Brilliant move, Phantom._

_Heh. Maybe I should go back to thinking of myself as 'Fenton' again…in case I'm stuck like this for a long time…_

Forever was a _very_ long time. Danny shivered and followed Jazz to the car, trying to put that particular worry out of his mind.

* * *

-_to be continued…_


	19. A Life Not Worth Living

A/N: I feel this chapter's a bit weak, but I was kind of at an impasse, and decided to just submit it and move on. Will probably clean it up later, but I plan to leave the details all intact, so don't feel obliged to come back to it but also don't be surprised if things have changed slightly on your next read-through.

And…totally didn't know that I wasn't supposed to reply to reviews within the fic. I guess that's why they installed that 'reply to,' button, bah. When I do the final edit, I'll clear the notes off, just to be safe. XP

I'll say a general thanks, since as far as I can see, _that_ isn't against the rules! **conan98002, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak **(thanks for the heads up, too!), **Epyon Zero, Annabelle Carter, Galateagirl, Anomaly25, …, dArkliTe-sPirit, littlekittykat, Ohka Breynekai, Yoshi, SilverstarsEbonyskies, HAlFa34, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, Phantom of a Rose, animeobsessed3191, pwykersotz, Leppers, HokiPoki1213, shadow929, mrit, Kagome M.K, Fanficaholic **and **Sweeteen19**, your reviews were much appreciated!Hope you enjoy this chapter too!

I like how everyone is theorizing how this will end. I'll just say that nothing is impossible, for now!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 19

_By Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Locating Valerie was simple enough – she had returned to her house and was staring, dazed, at her ecto-gun when Jazz, Tucker and Danny knocked on the door. She allowed them to enter in order to answer their questions, pointedly avoiding looking at Danny Fenton. "Of course I don't know how to reverse the effects. Why would I need to?"

"At least let me have a look at the weapon," Jazz pleaded, holding out her hand. "You don't seem to understand how important this is."

"I think you should just be thankful that I haven't called the Ghost Squad," Valerie said bitterly. Now that the truth was out, it was all over – images of Danny pulled from 1960s newspapers were being plastered all over the news checkpoints on TV. The hunter now felt empty somehow, as though her victory over Phantom had been robbed of its meaning, but despite that lack her anger remained. Danny Phantom was Danny Fenton. Danny Phantom was _Danny Fenton._

He'd lied to them.

Except to these two, Val reminded herself. Tucker and Jazz had clearly known well before today that Danny had been the ghost boy all along. She wondered if maybe she was the only friend he'd left in the dark. That thought, of course, made her even angrier.

Danny, for his part, hadn't done any of the talking, instead hanging back behind Tucker and tactfully directing his gaze elsewhere. Looking at him - alive and well, an image of her long-forgotten childhood – had instilled a sense of surreal disbelief upon the entire situation. She was glad that he hadn't tried to apologize or even speak to her.

He _did_ seem pretty preoccupied, Valerie noticed, finally handing Jazz the ecto-gun. Danny (for somehow, boy and spook were still registering as two separate entities in her perception; she now tried to force herself to call and think of him as Phantom) kept touching his hand to a strange green orb on his left ear, barely concealing worry. It was an expression she'd seem on his ghostly face many times before, but for all the years Valerie had spent hunting him, she'd never connected the dots.

It was infuriating.

It was enough to make her want to scream…but Valerie controlled herself. Keeping grudges wasn't good for the soul, she now believed, though she couldn't stop the anger that this particular situation had spawned. She had every right to be angry, Val chanted mentally. She'd been lied to and betrayed. She'd been humiliated. All these years…all that work and hate and hiding had been for nothing. She'd only succeeded now in losing the false sense security she'd wrapped around herself since Phantom had disappeared fourteen years before.

Of course, Valerie mused, _she'd_ be coming out of this with just wounded pride. Something told her that now that the media had gotten hold of this evidence against Phantom, there'd be no safe place in Amity Park for him. Especially if they believed he'd been forcing himself on the girl he'd been kissing in the photos…

That girl. Her face had been shielded from the camera, her back to the amateur photographer who had been thinking only about zooming in on the spectre. Valerie wondered if he really _had_ been doing something terrible to her. "Hey…Phantom."

The boy ghost started, as though he honestly hadn't been expecting her to address him. "Uh…yeah?"

"The girl in the pictures…"

He frowned.

"What did you do to her?" Valerie's lips were a grim line. "You didn't…?"

Phantom stared at the hunter as though she had grown an extra head. "Sam? I didn't 'do' anything to her."

"Sam," Valerie repeated. "So it was the same girl from before. And you really were that guy... 'William'."

"_William_?" Tucker bent double with laughter. "And let me guess, 'Bill' for short? That's genius, Danny, really."

Danny silenced the older man with a glare that eventually shifted over to land on his sister. "That one was Jazz's idea, thanks."

Valerie, however, was persistent. "So she was kissing you willingly? That wasn't some kind of ghostly trick?"

"Geez," Danny exhaled. "I can't believe you'd even _suggest_ that. Yes, it was consensual. No, I didn't do anything awful to her. She went home, where her parents promptly found out about me, thereby ruining any chance I might have had with her."

"It's better that way," Valerie told him with a frown. "A ghost in love with a human? It'd never work."

"I am half human, in case you forgot," he replied dryly. "Well, I _was_. Now I seem to be entirely human."

"I don't really see what's so bad about that," Tucker said, rolling his eyes.

"You've got to be kidding, Tuck! It matters a lot," the halfa said, his words rising in pitch, "when Spectra and Bertrand are out there doing who-knows-what, zapping whatever victims they came across next! It matters when I've all of a sudden lost what's been my _identity_ for the past fifty years! And what happens if I still can't die or cross over? How about that? You think I want to sit around the mortal plane for all of _eternity_?" The last syllable was a gasp that seemed to hang tangibly in the air like a dying ember, the sound of it echoing a million times in Danny's ears before finally receding. Nobody laughed.

"Danny," Tucker said slowly, "did your _voice_ just crack?"

The raven-haired boy's eyes were wide. "I…"

None of the others seemed to know what to say, and only Valerie was unable to grasp the significance of what had just happened. "What the heck is going on? What's wrong with you all?"

"I'm not really sure," Jazz said, looking dazed. "That hasn't happened before, right?"

"No," Danny replied slowly.

"Could you _please_ fill me in?" the hunter demanded again.

"Danny's going through puberty," Tucker said, awed.

"_I am not!_"

Jazz finally supplied the explanation, blunt and to the point. "Ever since the accident that gave him his ghost powers, Danny's been kind of…chronologically stuck. No ageing, no maturing, not even in his human form."

"Really," Valerie mused, squinting at him. It was true that he didn't look the seventeen years he had supposedly lived through, instead seeming a little smaller, a little shorter, a little more youthful than what she remembered the boys of her teen years being. She'd never taken much note of it when Danny was _alive_, but then again, he had always been a bit scrawny, she recalled. "But that's changed?"

"Could be changing," Jazz corrected. "There's no way to know for sure, of course, but maybe removing his ghost half actually might have been more beneficial than we thought. I wonder what the effects would be over time."

"You think there's a chance I might have started ageing again?" Danny looked hopeful, but something in his expression seemed almost…sad. If Valerie didn't know better, she might have thought he'd preferred being a ghost.

He…didn't, did he?

The hunter realized that in less than five minutes Danny had already won her over. Try as she might to stay angry, as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place, a memory came unbidden to her. An overcast afternoon in August of 1968, when on the shores of Lake Jejune she had confronted the Phantom paying his 'respects' to the memorial of a teenage boy who had drowned there. What was it he had said? She didn't remember the conversation…but she remembered the ghost's iridescent green eyes, whose solemn expression had nudged her into complacency, like an unspoken pact between them. She'd thought, back then, that maybe she had misjudged Phantom.

She knew, now, that she had.

"I guess it's time for all the secrets to be out in the open," Valerie finally said, having missed whatever exchange the siblings had shared while deep in her recollection of Danny Fenton's eulogy. "I can take you someplace where you might be able to find out more about that dispossession weapon. The person who made it…he's no longer alive, but I've heard that he might have become…one of you." She swallowed.

"One of who?" Tucker asked, confused.

Valerie nodded at Danny. "I mean that he's become a ghost. And if you're willing to take a trip into their world with me, he might be able to give you the answers you need."

* * *

"You have a _ghost portal_?" Jazz said in disbelief, eyeing the huge, red steel door. "_Why_?"

"Of course she has a ghost portal," Danny shrugged, at the same time that Valerie sighed and said "Of course I have a ghost portal." The two looked at each other.

"Val," Danny continued, "thankfully _keeps hers shut_."

"I don't exactly want to make the ghost problem bigger, Phantom," Valerie said, hands on hips.

"It was praise, not criticism."

"Okay, okay!" Jazz intervened between the aged huntress and the boy ghost, extending her arms to keep them apart as though they were children. "Could you two calm down, please?"

Tucker, meanwhile, was looking warily at the doorway. "You actually want us to go into the Ghost Zone? In _what_? Walker would snap us up like gnats, not to mention that without his powers, Danny—" He broke off, seemingly not wanting to remind the halfa of his loss, but still earned himself a reproachful look from Jazz and a glare from Valerie.

"Actually, Tuck, there's something else you could do that would be a lot more helpful."

Looking hopeful at the thought of avoiding a trip to the Ghost Zone, Tucker tipped his head to one side. "What's that?"

"Go to Whipstaff, and track down Sam."

"What?" The dark-skinned man frowned. "I don't even know what she looks like. How am I supposed to find her?"

"Well, you said you knew the area! Start asking around, or something. You're not going to have any easier a time finding her than _me_, at least not like this." Danny gestured at himself. "She's a little taller than me, with chin-length black hair, and she's Goth. She has violet eyes. That's…about all I can tell you. Oh! And I know that her parents have a lot of money."

"You could go back to our old house and ask her grandmother for more information," Jazz suggested. "Just tell her you're a friend of mine."

Tucker looked as though he wanted to protest, but his eyes darted back and forth from the Portal to Danny. It was clear that he was _not_ interested in going to see Valerie's supplier…and while Jazz didn't know it, and Val didn't know _they_ knew it, both Tucker and Danny were pretty sure they knew exactly who they'd be paying a visit to. And while he didn't like the idea of asking his arch-enemy for help…he was getting desperate. "All right already, I'll go look for your girlfriend. Just as long as you get in and out of the Ghost Zone as quickly as you can, and meet me there."

"Deal."

Valerie was readying a small, pod-like contraption that looked somewhat like an invention his parents had once owned. Danny supposed that the hunter didn't _always_ travel by hover sled, especially not in the Ghost Zone (not that he could figure out _why _Valerie might go to the Ghost Zone – maybe just to drop off ghosts she had captured?) when there was a much better chance of getting attacked or arrested. "Okay, get in."

The curly-haired woman fiddled with ancient controls and brought the ship to life as Danny and Jazz strapped themselves down, ignoring Tucker's waving and cheerful smile bidding them good bye. The Ghost Portal yawned open in front of them, the world beyond it a fluctuating mass of green punctuated by black smoke and swirling clouds. Jazz cringed. Guiding the ship forward, Valerie flipped a half-dozen switches and displayed a detailed map on her navigation screen. "Now…like I said before, I don't know for sure if my contact is still around, or how he'll react to visitors. I know he was never very fond of you, Phantom."

"You don't know the half of it," Danny muttered.

Valerie's eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Never mind," the halfa sighed, peering out the front viewport at bleak scenery. "Do you even know how to find him?"

"No," Valerie admitted. "But I'm not _entirely_ without associates here, it might surprise you to know. Not all ghosts are evil."

Danny stared at her incredulously, but Valerie kept her eyes front. "I can't believe you just said that."

"Believe it."

"Danny knows the Ghost Zone pretty well," Jazz said helpfully. "Is there a directory or something?"

"No," Danny said with a dry laugh, "but if he hasn't changed much since the last time I saw him, his Portal will be about as subtly disguised as a train wreck. Heck, maybe it's even in the same place as it used to be." _It leads somewhere else now, if Vlad's a full ghost_, Danny thought, remembering what Valerie had told them in the living room. _But Vlad _is_ still Vlad, I'm sure…_

"Okay, now I _know_ there's something you're not telling me," Valerie said through clenched teeth. Danny simply pointed to her left, and she swung the ship in a wide turn, taking them deeper into the murky ghost world.

"Hey, I could be wrong," Danny shrugged, avoiding looking at Jazz. He wasn't sure what she'd think of seeing Vlad again – she didn't like the man any more than her brother did. But it was really too late now to rethink things.

They drifted closer to what appeared to be a giant purple football, floating in mid-air. "Uh…okay," Valerie said slowly.

"Or, I could be right."

"This is where we're going?" Jazz asked, glancing furtively at Danny.

"It's behind the football."

Valerie used the mechanical arms on the outside of her ship to shift the football away, revealing a large, glowing green door. "Well, then…"

"Yeah…he hasn't changed."

"I didn't realize you knew my supplier," Valerie finally said lamely, guiding them through the doorway and into a large, opulent room that could be a library or some sort of study. The walls were lined with books, and the portal was situated like a hearth, with the Ghost Zone's landscape flickering, firelike, beyond. The hunter parked the ship just outside the door, looking at Danny with raised eyebrows.

"I know him, yeah. I knew all along."

"I don't understand."

"I don't know if he really wants it all explained." Danny sighed. "That's better left to him, I guess."

"Wait, this person has been giving Valerie weapons to kill you, and you not only knew it, but you didn't put a stop to it?" Jazz looked at him disbelievingly.

Danny shrugged. "I _tried_ to stop him, but he blackmailed me. He knew I was only half-ghost."

Both Jazz and Valerie's mouths fell open then, but Jazz's closed first and slowly, and her eyes hardened. "What did you say this guy's name was, again?"

"I didn't," Danny said simply.

"Well…if it isn't my dear Daniel." The ghost himself had appeared seemingly out of thin air, a vampiric figure with fangs, glowing red eyes, and spiked, pointed hair that resembled a demon's horns. His expression seemed perplexed, though. "I'd wondered if I'd ever see you again."

"I'd hoped you wouldn't," Danny replied evenly.

"Dear me, Daniel, that kind of malice isn't necessary now. I'm actually quite grateful to see you unharmed and…rather unmistakably, still half-human. Curious." The vampire ghost's eyes had landed on the two women. "Oh my, and this is quite the surprise. Miss Grey…and Jasmine as well."

"Mr. Masters?" Valerie asked slowly, her voice coloured with shock at his appearance.

"Masters? _Vlad Masters_?" Jazz rounded on Danny, her eyes fiery. "Let's just leave, Danny. We don't need or want his help!"

"Jazz, what are you saying?" the halfa asked, taken aback. Okay, admittedly Vlad had been kind of a creep, hitting on their mother all the time and putting their father down, and Danny wasn't exactly thrilled to be begging for his help now. But Vlad had made the weapon that had stripped him of his ghost powers, and he was probably the _only_ one that could tell them how it worked. Jazz's next words, however, shocked them all into silence.

"This guy," she gestured wildly, "is the person that _killed our parents._"

* * *

-_to be continued…_

A/N: Was that a cliff-hanger? I meant to be better about the cliff-hangers. You can pretend you didn't see that last line, if you want!


	20. Plasmius' Penance

A short-ish one. As some of you have probably noticed, I hate having more than one scene change in each chapter.

Thanks to **Epyon Zero, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, BJA Fan/Crazy Billie Joe Loving Freak** (can I just go with the shorter name from now on? XD), **Phantom of a Rose, lttlekittykat, Leppers, conan98002, shadow929, SilverstarsEbonyskies, Anomaly25, animeobsessed3191, dessyweird51, Yoshi, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, dArkliTe-sPirit, Ohka Breynekai, luv2bamom, HokiPoki1213, Sweeteen19, mrit **(sorry, this one is even worse for word count)**, Realsmartz, Lost Demon Soul, Crossover Fiend **(oh no, they're on to me! XDD), **blindyourears, Fanficaholic** and **dragonbonez **for their reviews last time! Love ya all and please enjoy this decidedly non-cliffhangery chapter!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 20

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Danny's azure eyes were the size of dinner plates. "_What?_"

"Oh, Jasmine, you needn't be so dramatic about it," Vlad Plasmius sighed. "You can't pretend to know anything about what actually happened."

"What do I need to know?" Jazz spat. "My mother and you were found dead in _your mansion_ and my Dad was in a coma for weeks, supposedly due to a ghost attack. Am I supposed to believe that you _weren't_ responsible?" She held back on describing Jack Fenton's awakening in the hospital, panicked and heartbroken, unable to stop raving about the 'Wisconsin Ghost'. Danny and Valerie looked at Plasmius, horrified, for confirmation.

"No," the ghost said at length, his posture defeated. "I was certainly responsible, and do not accuse me of feeling no remorse, Jasmine! I was a fool, and I admit it freely."

Danny knew Plasmius held all the cards now; the knowledge of Valerie's anti-ghost weapons, the true story behind his parents' death...

_My parents...gone. _He'd been so concerned with Sam and Jazz that he hadn't even asked his sister how they were. Anger bubbled up in Danny's stomach, but he forced it back and assumed a neutral expression. Now was not the time to lose his cool. "If you weren't _trying _to hurt them, then what were you doing...?"

Plasmius regarded Danny with some amount of shock. He'd probably expected the ghost boy to come at him with fists blazing upon hearing the news, but Danny had learned plenty about patience in his overlong lifetime. "If you really want to know, I was indeed trying to do harm to Jack. Maddie became caught in the crossfire when were having a...heated discussion."

Danny had the feeling that he didn't really want to know what constituted a 'heated discussion' in Plasmius' mind. "What the heck were they doing in Wisconsin?"

"Ah." Plasmius was still perfectly reserved. "I invited them, for old times' sake, you know. I thought perhaps that in the years since they left Amity Park and fell out of contact, Maddie might have...had a change of heart."

"And when she didn't, you killed her?" Jazz demanded, hands on hips.

"No!" Plasmius returned heatedly, his expression finally betraying his thoughts. Danny caught a flash of pain in the ghost's eyes at the accusation, grief disguised by anger tugging at his impatient frown. "It is as I said! Maddie intervened between us, and was injured. When I saw what had happened...when I realized..." He closed his crimson eyes. "I could not believe my mistake."

Jazz still wasn't buying it. "If you expect us to believe that, then how did _you_ end up dead?"

Plasmius, however, directed his gaze at the Fenton sibling who appeared to be giving him the benefit of the doubt. "How could I not?"

"What?" Danny whispered.

"How _could_ I go on, knowing that the love of my life was dead at my own hands? Of course when Jack saw that she was not breathing, he came at me like an animal. I defended myself at first, but I eventually simply surrendered. Even knowing that I could use my powers to heal my wounds, I did not, and the result is before you."

His words were like a stab to Danny's heart. _Then...a half-ghost's human side isn't as invulnerable than I thought. I could..._ He broke off the thought, unwilling to even consider taking his own life to end his ghost half's immortality. _I'm not finished with this world just yet._

Valerie intervened here, speaking for the first time since Vlad had appeared before them. "You were a ghost all along."

"Ah. Miss Gray." Plasmius looked her up and down warily. "Indeed, I was not completely truthful with you, either. I hope you will accept my apologies."

This was a Plasmius changed, Danny realized with a start. Despite the enormous power the ghost must surely have accumulated since they'd seen each other last, he was being civil and _apologetic_. Danny was starting to believe that he was sincerely remorseful for his deeds. Or at least as remorseful as Vlad's eccentric personality would permit.

Shocked, Valerie could only stutter, "Uh...I guess...it's just a bit of a shock, that's all."

_Vlad's not the only one who's changed,_ Danny thought with a glance at the red-suited Hunter. Valerie, too, seemed to have lost her short temper and instinctive distrust. She was much less quick to anger than he remembered – either that, or the day's events had stunned her into acceptance. He wasn't sure if the transformations were entirely comforting, but at least he was able to go a few moments without fearing for his life (so to speak). Jazz, however, had fallen silent, and seemed to be refusing to look at either Plasmius or Danny. Danny didn't really think he could blame her.

"So, do what to I owe the pleasure...?" the ghost finally asked. "Come to kick an old ghost when he's down? Surely you aren't here just to berate me for past failures."

"Well, no," Danny began, wishing he had thought to ask Valerie for the weapon in question to show Vlad. "It's about an ecto-gun that you gave to Val. One that's used for dispossessing ghosts who've overshadowed humans."

"I know the one," Plasmius said, looking interested. "Go on."

"We were wondering if anything could be done to reverse its...uh...effects."

"She shot you, did she?" Plasmius chuckled, but it was a humourless sound. Valerie looked at the floor.

Danny flinched and offered him a reluctant smile. "It seems to have a strange effect on half-ghosts."

"Oh yes, I know," Plasmius responded thoughtfully. "Never had a test subject, but of course I know how that particular weapon functions."

"You knew it could cure your condition and you didn't use it?" Jazz finally spoke up, clearly confused.

"Why should I?" Plasmius shrugged. "At the time, I accepted my ghost half. I _wanted_ it."

Danny read between the lines. _And now you don't, but you have no choice._ He wondered if someday he'd be in a similar situation. "Does that mean that you know how to reverse it?"

"Unfortunately not." The ghost looked genuinely troubled. "That weapon...well, it hasn't taken your ghost half _out_, per se. Your DNA is still permanently fused with your Phantom side, I imagine. But all of your spiritual essence, your ghostly energy, will have been expelled. Unless you were able to collect it with the proper equipment, there is likely no way to restore it."

Danny thought of the frothing green ectoplasm that had spilled out all over the pavement in the former Nasty Burger's parking lot. "Uh, no, we didn't."

"Then I'm afraid there's little I can do." Plasmius turned his back on them and stared thoughtfully at the far end of the room. Danny noticed that from behind he looked much smaller, less intimidating than he had before...he hadn't changed physically, but his _presence_ seemed to have diminished. He wanted to blame Plasmius for his parents' deaths, or at least his mother's (what had happened to his father? Danny suddenly wondered), but despite himself he could not put the incident in the correct perspective. The parents he hadn't seen in fifty years...the parents he had faked his own death to protect and also protect himself _from_...

_I wish it hadn't happened...but that doesn't mean that I'm going to make this guy's afterlife more miserable. _With Maddie's death weighing on his shoulders, would Plasmius ever cross over? Danny wasn't sure. _I've had enough of living forever. I wouldn't wish it on anyone, not even my arch-enemy._

"Will you...let me know if you think of anything?" Danny finally asked, acutely aware that he was the only one who still seemed interested in conversing with the former halfa.

"Of course," the ghost replied without turning around.

Danny nodded, his heart heavy. "Thanks, Plasmius."

The ghost's chin lowered, his eyes searching the red carpeting of his ghostly home. "Daniel...I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't call me that anymore. Just 'Vlad,' if you please."

"Sure." Danny looked pointedly at the two women and nodded at the ship. Both Valerie and Jazz turned and began walking back towards the portal without speaking, and Danny suspected he was in for a bad scene once they were back in the relative safety of the small craft. He fell into step behind his sister, finally pausing at the ship's open doors and looking back over his shoulder. "Goodbye, Vlad."

The ghost half-turned and offered Danny a slight smile. "Goodbye, Daniel. Perhaps if we meet again, I'll ask how you came to be in your current situation...for now, I will merely wish you luck in regaining your ghost half, if that is indeed what you seek."

"Is it?" Danny returned, grateful for the temporary reprieve. "I don't even know anymore."

Vlad Plasmius waved, and Danny climbed into the ship, not daring to look back.

* * *

"Hi there, I'm Tucker Foley, a close personal friend of Jasmine Fenton! Very pleased to make your acquaintance, ma'am!"

"Uhm..." Ida Manson drew back slightly from the screen door and the strange man standing on her front step. "How can I help you?"

"Well," Tucker said cheerfully, "I'm with the Ghost Squad, and it seems you have a ghost problem! Jazz sent me over to have a look. Routine check, you know."

Ida looked at him quizzically. "Who told you that we had a ghost problem? And you don't _look_ like a member of the Ghost Squad..."

Tucker ignored the comment about his appearance, instead jamming a hand in his pocket and pulling out a high-tech PDA. "Well, nobody told me per se, but this handy-dandy Fenton Ghost Finder alerts me to the presence of ghosts, and it's detected a particularly powerful one nearby! May not be in the house, of course, but it never hurts to check!" He eyed the woman appraisingly. "Do you mind if I come in?"

"I suppose not..." The elderly woman was somewhat nervous, since her son had left for home barely an hour ago, but she was somewhat curious as to the fate of the ghost that had once haunted her attic. Reluctantly she stepped closer and put her hand on the screen door's handle.

"Great! I'm sure we can take care of him before he causes you any trouble. Thanks for your cooperation, Mrs...?"

"Manson," she supplied. "Ida Manson."

"Manson!" Tucker repeated cheerfully. "Are you related to the Whipstaff Mansons, by any chance? I'm from that area."

"Why yes, I am," Ida said, taken by surprise. "I'm from Amity Park, myself, but my son and his family live in Whipstaff. Thurston and Liza...do you know them?"

"Oh, of course!" Tucker replied, and to his own shock he actually recognized the names. _That rich couple everyone's always gossiping about. I never knew they had a daughter...I guess in order to find Sam, I just have to find their house and talk my way in. No problem! Man, Danny is going to be surprised when he sees how quickly I found his girlfriend! _Grinning, Tucker turned on his heel, completely forgetting about his cover story. "Well, thanks a bunch, Mrs. Manson! See you around!"

Ida just stared, watching the dark-skinned man's receding back as he strutted back to his car. "Um...sir? What about the ghost?"

Tucker stopped in the middle of the driveway and turned, his mouth forming a perfect 'O'. "Right, the ghost!" He held up his PDA sheepishly. "Well, it looks like he just completely left, so it was nice talking to you! Sorry for the trouble!"

"Not at all...I think." Ida stood at the door waiting until Tucker had climbed into his little silver car, started it, and then pulled out of the driveway with disconcerting speed. She continued to watch until the vehicle had disappeared down the tree-lined street, and then closed the door, pulling the deadbolt over. "What an odd man."

Humming to himself, Tucker took the next exit out onto the interstate, his mind completely occupied with how easily he had gotten away getting a lead on Sam and _not_ having to go see Vlad. On the right-hand side of the road, a highway sign whizzed by and faded into the distance in Tucker's rear view mirror:

_Whipstaff - 55 mi._

Tucker clenched his teeth and focused his eyes on the road, thumbing the car's GPS system to life. He'd be there quickly enough...he could only hope that Danny, Valerie and Jazz were having just as much luck with their mission as he was.

* * *

-_to be continued..._


	21. Follow the Crowd

Admittedly, these chapters aren't coming as easily or quickly as the first ones did, probably because I shifted away from Sam and started working with Danny, Valerie and Tucker. Well, that'll change now; I don't want to lose too much focus so back to Danny and then Sam we shall go. n.n

It's going to be a busy week for me; I've got another visitor coming on Sunday and I'll be spending the following weekend in Chicago, seeing the Play! concert. However, there will probably still be sporadic updates.

Random trivia: The longest chapter of this story is chapter 5 at 5240 words. That would be the first instance in which Sam read the history book, as well as her fourth trip to the attic, and the second time she was caught there by Ida.

The shortest chapter at 2239 words is chapter 7, which revealed Penelope and Bertrand's true natures as well as being the first time Sam and Danny kissed. n.n

Thanks to **Annabelle Carter, conan98002, Crossover Fiend, SummersSixEcho, shadow929, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, BJA Fan, Galateagirl, blindyourears **(thanks!), **animeobsessed3191, dessyweird51, Ohka Breynekai, littlekittykat, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, dArkliTe-sPirit, Yoshi, Phantom of a Rose, HAlFa34, Rebecca the Animorph** (sorry! XD), **Leppers, HokiPoki1213, Spirit, Fanficaholic, SilverstarsEbonyskies, Anomaly25, dragonbonez** and **dPhantoMfreak** for their reviews last chapter! Cookies for all :D

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 21

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

"Danny—"

"All right, all right, I can take it, go ahead." Danny heaved a sigh and fell back against his seat, face upturned to the ceiling of the little ship.

Jazz just frowned at her little brother. "Don't you even _care_ about what he did? I expected you to…well, something more than just accept it and walk away."

"Jazz." Danny didn't move from his position, keeping his eyes firmly focused on the steel interior. "I care, I swear I do. I just don't know what to _do_ about it. You think I stood a chance attacking him, like this?"

"Were you going to?" Valerie asked, confused.

"No," Danny replied honestly. "But you know I hate Vlad. And if what he said is true…"

The elder Fenton scowled. "Which thing that he said?"

"I don't know, all of it, I guess." _How am I going to explain this to Jazz so that she'll understand? And Valerie…_ The red-suited Hunter had returned her attention to piloting the ship, and he couldn't see her expression, but her posture was extremely tense. Jazz's face was a clear indication of what _she_ was thinking, her lips pressed together so hard that they were nearly white. "I just…I mean, he has to live with that too, you know? So to speak. He's a full ghost now because of that mistake, and he's probably going to be stuck that way for a very long time, if not forever. Am I angry? Yeah. Do I forgive him? No way. But I _do_ feel sorry for him."

Jazz's mouth fell open. Valerie's grip tightened on the controls and the ship slowed to a crawl, barely carried forward by the momentum it still retained, so that she could look at him. "Wow. You still look like a little kid, Fenton, but I guess looks are deceiving."

"I've had a long time to think about this kind of thing," Danny said sourly.

"No, you're right, Danny, I'm sorry." Jazz surprised him then by sagging into her seat as well, seemingly to deflate a little right before his eyes. "It's hard to put it in yours and Vlad's perspectives, you know? Making mistakes that you have to live with forever…I guess I never thought about what it might have done to him."

"It did him some good, since I haven't had to fight his ghost self in a long time," Valerie declared. "If I could have imagined that _he_ was actually Vlad Masters! Well, he took off about ten years ago, and I haven't seen him since. I guess he's serious about this if he's not causing trouble in the human world anymore."

Something in Danny's face was still deeply troubled. "Jazz…what happened to Dad?"

"Couldn't go on without Mom," his sister answered at length. "When he found out that she was…gone…his recovery took a turn for the worse. The official documents say heart failure, but everyone who saw him could tell it was heart_break_."

Valerie's gaze lowered. "Oh, Jazz…"

"I'm sorry about how I acted with Vlad back there," Danny said finally. "It's not that I'm not sad about Mom and Dad being gone. Just that…I haven't seen them since I was seventeen. I missed them for a long time, but now I can't even recall their voices."

Jazz drew her brother into a tight hug. "It's okay. They were getting on in age just like we were; their time was going to come eventually. Don't you feel bad about it."

Emotion was welling up in Danny's throat. "Wish I could have seen them again before, though."

"I know," Jazz soothed. It could have been comical, the sight they made; the elderly sister hugging her brother, who though was just two years younger, looked perfectly like a child. They looked more like grandmother and grandson than siblings.

But the scene the two Fentons made caused Valerie to frown behind her faceplate and be thankful that Danny and Jazz could not see how watery her eyes had become. "While we're all making apologies…I'm sorry about how I reacted earlier, too. I shouldn't have been so bull-headed."

"What, about the half-ghost thing?" Danny grinned sheepishly.

"Yeah. It was a little hard to swallow, and I'm still kinda mad. But I overreacted, and I guess it's my fault you lost your powers."

"Nah, it's cool," Danny said, and once more reminded her of the teenager he resembled. "Who knows, it might have done more good than harm. I wish there was some way to tell quickly if I was getting older or not."

Valerie tipped her head to one side, distracted slightly, glimpsing the outer door of her Ghost Portal growing larger in the viewport as they approached.. "Then you'd be able to grow up normally, right?"

"I hope so. It's a bit of a relief thinking it might be possible to go…the normal way…this time. I hope."

"But Mr. Masters said that your ghost half was still in you," she pointed out. "Just that it had no energy, right?"

"Yes, but maybe that much won't affect him," Jazz said thoughtfully. "It could be that the presence of all that ghost energy was what was retarding his human form from changing. Even if there's still a little bit of ghost in him, it might no be enough to get in the way of his body's natural course anymore."

"Of course, I can't go ghost anymore, either," Danny added, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice. He could hardly remember a time when he _couldn't_ become Danny Phantom at will. And while all of his common sense cried out that he should be thankful the ghost was gone for good, the idea that he would probably never fly again was frightening. Would never be able to help those in danger, or protect his friends and family from evil ghosts.

_What am I going to do about Spectra?_

Danny shook his head to himself as they passed through the Portal, hovering in the air over the concrete floor of Valerie's laboratory. What _could_ he do, in his current state? While Spectra herself wasn't necessarily a problem unless she got close, Bertrand was very much a danger to the city. Without ghost powers, and only limited help from Val and Jazz…taking them down was going to be a messy affair.

_You went into retirement already, buddy. You ran away from all that._

But he could never do it again. His elation at returning after all that time alone in the attic had been proof positive that Danny Fenton could just not resist being tempted to heroics. He was going to remove Spectra before she could do to anyone else what she'd done to Sam.

_Sam…_

_I wish I knew how you were doing…_

* * *

Sam lay on her bed with her combat boots still laced tightly to her feet, watching the ceiling fan spin lazily. Here at home her room was decorated with lavender accents, the queen-sized bed covered with a black lace and tulle canopy. She scowled at the fan and the black ceiling that sported it, wishing she were back in her grandmother's house in Amity Park, where everything was smaller and brighter and insufferably hot, but at least she could forget about her parents.

Her _parents_. They thought they were so clever, snatching her like kidnappers and fleeing back home where the big bad ghostie wouldn't find her. As if she hadn't told Danny any personal information that'd help him find her! She just hoped he had been able to defuse the situation back in Amity, or at least ensure Jazz's safety before getting out unseen. She hoped he'd come to Whipstaff and look for her as soon as he could.

Sam hit a remote on her night table and turned the fan on blast, along with the air conditioner. As the chilled air began to cycle through the room, it felt more like December than July, which was oddly comforting to her._ Ghost Danny's always this cold. I wonder how it feels to him? Does he feel cold the same way humans do, or is he just aware of it while never experiencing it?_

Her mind backtracked to that first kiss he had given her, some twelve hours and an eternity ago, when she had just woken from sleep and found him sitting protectively at her bedside. Incredible that in that short time, she'd discovered so many thrilling and terrifying things about him. _A halfa…not a ghost, but not a boy. What'll this mean? I wonder if he's thinking about it as seriously as I am. I hope…_

He'd lied to her, Sam told herself, so maybe not. _But then, he lied thinking he was protecting me. Any other girl might have been scared to get involved with someone like Danny._

_Not me._

Sam Manson was no coward. If anything, the fact that Danny was _half_ human made the idea even more viable in her perception. Sure, she had fallen hard for his ghostly side. Who wouldn't? He was sweet, sincere, and _very_ attractive. When she recalled to mind the way he would run his hand through his hair, making his snow-white bangs fall messily in his face…the expressive way he gestured with his hands, as though painting a picture…

And those _eyes_. Sam was sure that the eyes were the most alluring part of Danny Phantom. To her, they were like glittering jewels, and she'd found it even more interesting rather than frightening when they glowed. She loved the way _he_ glowed, soft and ethereal.

_Oh my God…listen to me, I'm such a spaz. This isn't like me at all._

And it wasn't; it wasn't like Sam to go all googly-eyed over a boy, and she'd seen plenty of cute ones in her seventeen years. No, there was something special about Danny, something about the easy way he had accepted her and the quiet, thoughtful way he spoke (even if that had changed slightly after his memories came back, the voice was still the same). She thought that he deserved to be accepted in turn.

Sam thought about what she'd said to Danny at various times over the past days. She hadn't said that she _was_ interested him as more than a friend…but that kiss – _stupid me, if I hadn't done that, we wouldn't be in this mess – _was hopefully a sufficient hint for him that even if she wasn't sure what relationship they could ever have, she was willing to consider something more. Sam hoped he felt the same way.

_And even if he doesn't, I know he'll still want to be friends,_ she thought. But the more Sam thought about it, the more she was sure that she _didn't_ just want to be friends with Danny Fenton, or Danny Phantom, whichever he happened to be. And as much as Sam had hated to admit to herself that she had a crush (how crazy!Was she turning into her airheaded classmates?), she now had to entertain the idea that maybe it was _more_ than just a crush.

_I really like this guy. This ghost._

_I'm falling in love with a GHOST._

_Unbelievable!_

Then again, Sam thought ruefully, she'd never been the type to follow the crowd.

Now the room had reached a temperature well below what normally would have prompted her to put on long sleeves or at least arm warmers. Instead, she stretched out with her arms behind her head, conscious of goosebumps rising on her skin as it was exposed to the cool air. She closed her eyes and tried to imagine the ghost there in the room with her, standing close enough to share that feeling between them. It was colder in here than Danny was, Sam thought, but she really didn't care. It cleared her head somehow, and soon she grew so accustomed to the feeling that it wasn't so much uncomfortable as soothing. She imagined her parents' reactions on their next entry of her room (if they were able to get past the dresser Sam had put against the door), their shock and suggestions that perhaps Sam had lost her mind. Maybe she would just pass out from hypothermia before they bothered to check on her. Still she didn't move to turn off the air conditioner; the temperature was finally a comfort that reminded her of him, tingeing her lips slightly with its urgent chill, taking her breath away.

She sighed contentedly. Through her closed eyelids, Sam was able to observe the muted bursts of light caused by the ceiling fan, and it reminded her a little bit again of Amity Park, and the way the ceiling of her room there looked like a night sky, punctuated by glowing stars.

* * *

_-to be continued…_

A/N: Proofread? What's that? XP

I also wrote a one-shot Danny Phantom story the other day, if any of you missed it and are interested. :) It's short and canon, can be found in my profile, and is called _Icebreaker_. Hope you all enjoy and see you for chapter 22 very soon!


	22. Impasse

A/N: Yes I realize I totally flaked out this week. :P I intended to have this chapter out BEFORE I left for Chicago to see the Play! concert on Friday (actually, before my friend Gaia arrived earlier in the week to attend my grad ceremony, really) and while I worked on it here and there I wasn't able to finish enough to actually put the chapter up until now. Sorry!

If anyone's wondering, though, I did have a ton of fun. :D And I got the autographs of some of my favourite composers (Yasunori Mitsuda of _Chrono Trigger_, Nobuo Uematsu of_ Final Fantasy_, and Koji Kondo of _Zelda _to name a few) as well as getting to spend time with my boyfriend, who lives in another country, and two other friends I don't see in person very often. We had a fabulous time and I'm really going to miss them! I also was able to catch some American TV during downtime in the hotel, I got to see the FOP special _Fairy Idol_ while I was there (omfg Cosmo singing oO) as well as scattered eps of various other shows I like. Forced the boyfriend to sit through _King Tuck _again, which is an episode we both hate. :P

On the bright side, though, now that I've graduated and finished at my part-time job, I'll have a lot of spare time that ought to be spent writing. n.n;;

And listen, like the last, I know this is a really short chapter, but I honestly did want to finish it before I went to bed and I didn't want to go back to Sam with another scene change, so I left it for chapter 23, which will not take long, I assure you.

Thanks to **littlekittykat, L'ange-Sans-Ailes** (I'll address your question in this very chapter!), **Phantom of a Rose** (I have indeed read her work, and I love it! Looking forward to more _Moments of Clarity,_ let me tell you!), **conan98002, luv2bamom, shadow929, dPhantoMfreak, Anomaly25 **(thank you for the offer and suggestion! I tutored English myself for a time, and am generally all right with proofing my own stuff, my problem lies in my impatience…I usually stop writing because I'm looking forward putting the chapter up to see the response or, like this chapter, I reach my limit of scene changes and as a result am too excited to give it more than a cursory second glance XD), **dArkliTe-sPirit, Leppers, SilverstarsEbonyskies, dessyweird51, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, HAlFa34, Epyon Zero, Lt. Commander Richie, Melodey70, animeobsessed3191, Fanficaholic, The Person Who Rights, SummersSixEcho, Yoshi **and **Crossover Fiend **for their reviews last chapter.

Enjoy!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 22

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Sam was awakened by a sharp knock at her door, accompanied by the sound of the handle being jiggled loudly and her father's voice. "Samantha! Are you in there?"

She breathed deeply, wrapping her arms around herself. It was time to face reality. Danny wasn't here, and her parents were, and she was possibly grounded for the rest of her life and would never be able to get back to Amity Park. Great. "Yes."

"I hope you don't intend to stay in there all day."

"That _was_ the plan."

There was a pause, and Sam imagined her father scowling. "Well, we wanted to let you know that Penelope Spectra is coming by to see you. She called a few minutes ago and she's on her way here from Amity now."

"I'm not talking to her," Sam said with finality. "She's wasting a trip."

"Samantha," Thurston hissed, and she had trouble hearing him over the hum of the fans. "Penelope _is_ coming, and you will talk to her, or you'll be locked in this room for far longer than you'd prefer. She'll be here in an hour, so you'd better have calmed down by then."

"We'll see," Sam grumbled, rolling angrily off the edge of the bed and standing upright. _Sorry Dad, there's a limit to how much of this crap I can take. _There was no way Spectra wouldn't assume Sam didn't know Danny's secret – she couldn't take the chance that the ghost wouldn't try to use her against him again. Even with the Specter Deflector and the Fenton Thermos Danny had given her (which she really didn't know how to use, and was now conspicuously sticking out of her violet spider-shaped backpack) she couldn't guarantee that she'd be able to resist Spectra's manipulative abilities long enough to stop the therapist for good. She ran the risk of putting her parents in danger and getting herself killed with no way to contact Danny for help.

So Sam did the only rational thing an oppressed and defiant seventeen-year-old independent thinker such as herself could do. Slinging her backpack onto her back, she yanked on her fingerless black leather gloves, heaved the window open and climbed out onto the ledge, leaving the purple curtains blowing in the frigid air. Then, she moved catlike along the centremost boughs of the tree, steadying herself with higher branches until she reached the trunk.

When she finally paused to catch her breath, Sam glanced down and spotted something strange moving out of the corner of her eye. A dark-skinned man was prowling around the bottom-floor windows, trying to peer into the living room without actually laying hands on the house. He was elderly, with a receding silver hairline and thick glasses, and wore a grey argyle sweater. She thought at first that he might have been one of the servants or a new gardener, but the way he uncertainly peeped only into the corners of the glass arose her suspicion.

Deftly Sam manoeuvred out onto a thick branch that hung over the next window over and balanced there until the man stopped trying to look into the living room and moved on to check out the kitchen. Just as he stopped under her, Sam bent her knees and leapt off the branch, landing non-too-gracefully behind him and causing him to jump with fright and spin around to face her.

Sam reached out, as though to grab a fistful of the man's shirt, but as he turned she stopped suddenly, not wanting to scare him into cardiac arrest or worse. Instead she assumed a stern expression and put her hands on her hips. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm sorry, I swear I wasn't—ah! You've got to be Sam!" he cried, eyes widening behind thick bifocals. "Thank goodness!"

"Say what?" Sam's anger was replaced by curiosity, more so when she noticed that the man was wearing a Fenton Phone in one ear. "You know me?"

"I don't," he replied, "but my best friend does, and he's the one who sent me to look for you. Does the name 'Danny Fenton' ring a bell?"

"Danny! Danny's here?" Sam's heart swelled. He'd come all the way to Whipstaff already? Much of the anxiety she'd been feeling dropped away, like throwing off a wet coat. It couldn't have been better timing, she thought, especially with Spectra on the way. She couldn't wait to see him again!

"Er, not quite," the man said apologetically. "Danny had some stuff to take care of back home, so he sent me. I'm Tucker Foley, by the way." He held out his hand with a smile. "Nice to meet you."

"_You're_ Tucker!" Sam shook the proffered hand, relieved at finally being able to put the name from Danny's epigraph to a face. "Nice to meet you, too. I'd love to stay and chat, but my psychotic ghost therapist is on her way here, so can we finish this elsewhere?"

Tucker did a double take. "Not Spectra, I hope."

"Wish I could say it wasn't so."

The man groaned. "Okay, then, I'll take you over to my son's place and we can talk more over there. I'd better let Danny know Spectra's coming, though." He raised his hand to the communicator on his left ear and toggled it, clearing his throat before beginning to speak to a Danny whose responses Sam couldn't hear. "Hey, man, are you there?"

A pause. "I found Sam and we're getting out of here before trouble shows up. Apparently Spectra's on the way." Tucker gestured for Sam to follow him across the manicured lawn, with one last glance back at the mansion. "How did your visit to the Ghost Zone go?" A longer pause, and the bespectacled man began to look worried and his steps slowed. "It can't be reversed at _all_?"

"Wait, stop," Sam said loudly. "What can't be reversed? Did something happen to Danny?"

"Oh, er, of course not, Danny's just fine," Tucker lied, his face betraying his thoughts. "Finer than usual, really, I guess."

Tucker then became the recipient of Sam's most threatening glare. "Tell me everything."

* * *

On the other end of the line, Danny sighed and leaned his forehead against one hand, the other drumming impatiently on the tabletop. "Vlad says that he didn't really have a 'reverse mode' in mind when he created it. It isn't exactly supposed to be used on people who are part ghost, you know."

"I know that, but can't it be reverse-engineered or something? And," Tucker's voice became muffled as he put a hand over the microphone to address Sam. "I'll tell you after I'm finished talking to Danny…if Danny wants me to."

"You may as well tell her for me," the former halfa sighed, glancing at Jazz, who was buried in one of her mother's research books on ectoplasmic properties. "The thing's kind of like a weaponized Fenton Ghost Catcher, or maybe more like a permanent Plasmius Maximus, with a little more pain involved. Jazz is doing some work on it, but as far as we can tell there's no cure. My ghost half is still _there_, it's still bonded to my DNA, but I don't have enough ghostly energy left in me to actually access it. Probably, nothing short of zapping me full of it will fix the problem, and that's risky."

"So we couldn't just put you in the portal and turn it on."

"Not in the state it's in now. I really don't know what the settings were back during the accident, so for all we know I could end up a full ghost instead. There's no cure for_ that _either."

Tucker's voice in his ear sounded encouraging. "Don't sound so glum, Danny. What's so bad about this, in the end? You couldn't hang around Amity Park fighting off ghosts _forever_, right? Now that you might be aging again, can't we just look at the bright side and go after Spectra with your parents' old weapons instead?"

"I'm pretty sure I'm aging again," Danny confessed, again holding back on expressing his mixed feelings. "I'm not healing as fast as I used to, and I'm getting tired and hungry more easily. Could just be after-effects of the gaping _hole_ Val blasted in me, but Jazz doesn't think so. She thinks its because all of the ectoplasm drained out of my bloodstream somehow."

"Whatever she shot you with forced your body to expel anything ghostly, if you want me to put it in layman's terms," Jazz said, though Tucker couldn't hear. "If she'd done it when you were Phantom, you probably would have been ripped apart. When it hit you your ghost form was forced to superimpose itself over your human form and take the hit, then it essentially bled to death after running out of ectoplasmic energy."

"Thanks, as though that made any sense at all," Danny grumbled, paying only half-attention to his sister as he listened to Tucker dictate plans to meet them at his son's house as soon as possible. Danny could barely hear Sam's voice in the background of the transmission, worrying loudly about the trouble that Tucker had alluded to. The boy ghost smiled at the sound, unable to believe that he could miss her so much after being without her for only a few hours.

_This is love and you know it, Fenton._

_Ah, but maybe being fully human again won't be so bad_. _A normal life, without ghosts and crazy bullies and having to hide all the time? That'd be nice. Really nice…_

Of course, things were never that easy, Danny thought. He'd been declared dead seven years after the lake accident, since his body had never been found, and the only things he owned were a few items in the basement of FentonWorks and a bank account under a false name. Jazz had been putting funds into it periodically over the years, though Danny didn't know how much, in anticipation of her own eventual death. He'd never really wanted to think too much about what he'd do after Jazz was gone.

But now, he thought to himself, the money might be of some use. Danny toyed with the idea of settling back down and getting his sister to help him fund a house, establish a new identity, and just live and die like any normal person would. It didn't matter that he still looked fourteen if he could get in touch with someone who knew how to deal with fake identification. But it couldn't be in Amity Park, he remembered sadly, not after his secret had been exposed to the entire town. Heck, he might not be safe _anywhere_ in the country, though outside of the area the idea of the paranormal was still treated with a lot of scepticism. No matter what he did, it seemed, he'd always be hiding from someone or something.

"_Danny? Are you still there, dude?_"

Danny had to fight back a laugh - some things really never did change. "I'm here. Go on and take Sam somewhere safe, and as soon as I get the weapons together, I'll go after Spectra."

"_Roger_." Tucker's voice fell silent, and the disappearance of the static on the line indicated that he'd cut the transmission. Danny sighed again.

"You'll go after Spectra?" Jazz repeated, emphasizing the first syllable. "I hope you don't think you're going alone."

Danny stared at his sister. "I don't mean to be insulting, but last time we saw Spectra she nearly toasted you. I'd rather not put you in that position again."

"You are _not_ going alone, and that's final."

"Jazz…"

The fiery-haired woman huffed and crossed her arms. "I admit I'm not exactly top-notch ghost fighting material, but you know you need an ally, and I'm not afraid to take her on after what happened. I may be old, but I _can_ take care of myself."

Danny's heart sank. He knew Jazz was capable and that she was in excellent physical shape, and her quick-thinking had been of great use to him before. But he still couldn't get past the fact that if Spectra got in a lucky shot, his sister could die trying to protect him. He couldn't believe she'd dismiss Bertrand and Spectra so quickly knowing what a powerful combination they made.

"Hey," Jazz said softly, as though reading his thoughts. "I know it'll be dangerous. But right now, your life is more important than mine. You've got years ahead of you now, and I want you to enjoy them, not get yourself killed before you have the chance."

"It's not that," Danny whispered, his voice breaking embarrassingly in mid-sentence. "I don't want you to die on me, Jazz. I don't really have many people left to care for on this side."

She fell silent for a moment, searching Danny's pale face. "Then I won't, I promise. But I'm still coming with you. I owe Spectra a blast in the face with an ecto-gun."

Danny couldn't help smiling at the thought. "Thanks."

"Sure. Now grab the weapons and get into the car, little brother. We've got a date with a psycho therapist."

He groaned at the pun, but threw her a mock salute and went to collect the Jack-a-Nine-Tails from the basement. It was time to prove to Spectra that Danny Fenton wasn't going to be intimidated by her anymore.

* * *

_-to be continued…_

A/N: I almost put in a terrible cliffhanger, but then I shunted it to the next chapter instead. Aren't you guys glad. :D

Time for some extra reading; I wanted to recommend **AkoyaMizuno's** story _Phantom's Sketchbook_ to anyone looking for a good, multi-chaptered fic. Two chapters are up so far. n.n Akoya is my best friend IRL, and a talented writer (though she will not admit to it, however I think the number of positive reviews she's gotten should really be an indication, har har), so if you're interested you'll find her at the top of my Favorite Stories list.

That's it! See you next chapter!


	23. Go the Distance

A/N: There, now all the details that I'd retconned regarding Danny's age have been completely fixed. :D The issues with Sam's parents' names will be handled after the story is complete, so I don't confuse anyone…along with that other detail that only **mrit **and possibly **Akoya **really know about; I don't care to rewrite it right now, and I doubt anyone else will notice or think it matters that I forgot to expand on it. XD Yay!

Thanks for your patience, everyone, and thanks to **conan98002, shadow929 **(that was _so_ not a cliffhanger:P), **AkoyaMizuno, Galateagirl, passing4insane** (it would be, but they're related, you see! Isn't it just like Tucker to name his kid Tucker Jr…and then Tucker Jr. to name _his_ kid Tucker III? Ar har har!), **Lt. Commander Richie, dPhantoMfreak **(okay, here's a cliffie for ya, then!)**, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, luv2bamom, Jenna Dax, Phantom of a Rose, Anomaly25, Leppers **(thanks for the tip, and that detail's now fixed!), **Yoshi**, **animeobsessed3191** (absolutely, we're coming up to the climax now!), **littlekittykat, Sweeteen19, dArkliTe-sPirit, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Annabelle Carter** and** HAlFa34** for reviewing the last chapter!

I'll have you know that I had to valiantly fight off the "writing a _Fairly Oddparents_ one-shot bug" in order to present this chapter! Be proud of me! –pose-

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 23

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

"Okay," Tucker said, beckoning for Sam to follow again. "To put it simply, Danny's lost his ghost powers."

"Ghost _powers?_ I thought he was half-ghost."

"He is. Well, he _was_. I just call them his 'ghost powers.' What I mean to say is that Danny got into a fight with Valerie, and she shot him with something that pretty much turned him back into a human."

Sam couldn't believe what she was hearing. She stopped with one hand on the door of Tucker's silver car and hesitated for a long moment before glancing back up at the elderly man. "What about the…aging problem?"

"Gone," Tuck confirmed. "As far as we can tell, everything ghostly about him was completely expunged."

"You're kidding me." As she got into the car and buckled her seatbelt, Sam's brain was processing all this new information at a maddeningly slow rate. _But that means that he could go out in public again, live normally…well, if it wasn't for the fact that the town's on high alert. He could…_

Sam sucked in a sharp breath. These new developments changed _everything_. If he was going to grow up normally, what could stop their relationship now? It was as though Fate had intervened for her again. Despite everything going wrong, one thing at least had gone right…the one thing Sam wanted most.

She dwelled on these thoughts for several minutes as Tucker drove, no words passing between them, until a single worry came to her unbidden.

_But if Danny's human now…completely human…what are we going to do about Penelope?_

"We're going to have to take Spectra on by ourselves," Tucker informed her, as though sensing her hesitation. "Danny's on his way here now and he's going to bring the rest of the ghost-hunting equipment…unfortunately, most of it's sealed under your grandmother's house, so we'll have to make do with what Jazz has been keeping at her place. I--" He stopped speaking suddenly, reaching one hand into a trouser pocket, where a handheld computer was beeping insistently. "There's a ghost nearby!"

_Danny…? No, it has to be Penelope! _"What? Where is she?" Sam asked nervously as Tucker pulled over onto the side of the road and inspected the screen grimly.

"She's coming in from the east, going west."

"And we are?"

"Southbound," Tucker said with a frown. "She's heading to where we just came from."

"Well, _obviously!_" Sam snapped. "She was supposed to be seeing _me,_ remember?"

Tucker dropped the PDA into his lap and swung the car in a wide u-turn, barely checking himself against the oncoming traffic. "Right, of course, of course!"

"Where are you going?" Sam demanded.

"Back?"

"You're kidding!" she yelled. "We can't fight her _there!_"

The man's knuckles were white on the steering wheel. "So what do you suggest? Let her waltz in where your parents will notice you're gone, put the police out looking for you all over town, and put everyone at risk of Spectra getting angry and trashing the place? We have to make a stand somewhere!"

Sam groaned, knowing that Tucker was right. "Yeah, but can't we wait for Danny?"

"I'd love to, but I don't think we have the luxury." Tucker thumbed the control on the side of his earphone. "Danny, you there? We've got trouble."

"Understatement of the year," Sam grumbled.

"Change of plans," he said into the microphone, rattling off the Mansons' address. "We'll meet you there as soon as possible, and you'll want to have all weapons blazing."

_Great,_ Sam thought to herself. _I get to help fight off my undead therapist with the help of a seventy-year-old man who's so spindly it looks like he's never exercised a day in his life, a belt that may or may not actually work at warding off ghosts, and a souped-up Thermos. On my front lawn, which will undoubtedly be crawling with cops before long. Fantastic._

Tucker had disconnected the call and was driving with one hand on the wheel, the other holding up his pocket PDA. He peered uncertainly at the display over the tops of his glasses. "She's within two hundred metres."

"And there's my house," Sam said superfluously as they approached the driveway. "So what are we going to do?"

"We're going to take a stand," Tucker said grimly, screeching to a stop and almost tumbling out of the car before the door was completely unlatched. Sam followed suit, throwing off her seatbelt and vaulting out without stopping to close the passenger door. Tucker held up the PDA again, mumbling to himself. He hit a button on the keypad and the trunk swung open in response, its compartment filled to the brim with electronic devices, computer parts and weapons trimmed with green decals, many of which had the word "Fenton" embossed upon them. "Okay, grab something, hurry! Before she actually gets here!"

"This is ridiculous!" Sam snapped, looking over her shoulder at the front door of the mansion, which was within plain sight. Still, she unslung her backpack and pulled out the Thermos Danny had given her earlier. "If my parents catch me out here, I'm _dead_! And I don't know how to use any of this stuff!"

"It's not hard!" Tucker said distractedly, sifting through the contents of the trunk for a weapon of his own. "For the Thermos, you just press the button on the side and aim it at the ghost. It's nothing at all." He picked out a large, bazooka-like gun. "Aha. The Fenton Foamer…perfect."

"Oh, please," a male voice drawled, its source invisible. "You don't honestly think that's going to work on me?"

"Who's there? Show yourself!" Tucker demanded.

Sam frowned. _That voice sounds familiar…it has to be the ghost that was with Penelope at the library! _But where was his companion? Tucker had said his tracker was detecting _a_ ghost, not two!

_One may be easier, but Danny said that Bertrand was much more of a threat._ Sam tried to glare in the general direction of the ghost, but it was somewhat difficult to pinpoint his location. He could have been a kilometre away or right in front of her face, for all she knew…

"_Oof!_" A powerful force then hit Tucker and sent him tumbling to the ground, held down by an unseen enemy of considerable weight. "Hey!"

Sam ran to his side, uncapping and brandishing the Thermos. "Let him go!"

"Oooh," Bertrand said, sounding amused. "I guess he filled you in. But where _is_ your little loser boyfriend, hmm?"

"He's not my boyfriend!" Sam insisted, feeling her cheeks redden. _Is he?_ "And he's not here, so you'd better clear off!"

"Or what?" Bertrand chose that moment to hop off Tucker's chest and show himself, looking much the same as he had when he'd first appeared at the library – a formless, shapeless blob with malevolent red eyes and a wicked grin. "I'm not particularly scared of _you_. But I guess you're telling the truth – I don't sense the baby halfa anywhere. Guess we'll just play until he shows up!"

"Where's your partner in slime?" Tucker demanded, looking winded but still managing to scowl at the ghost's backside.

Bertrand shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to tell you, I suppose. She took the car to keep up her human disguise – but don't worry, she'll be here soon enough, and then when Danny shows up we can have a grand little party!"

Sam felt sick. No way could the three of them take on Spectra _and_ Bertrand without Phantom's powers! She knew in a heartbeat that they couldn't count on Danny to show up before Penelope joined the fray. She and Tucker would have to take Bertrand out of the fight by themselves. The Goth gulped, holding the Thermos close to her chest. "You'd better stay away from Danny!"

The ectoplasmic ghost looked positively gleeful. "To tell you the truth, girl, we're not all that interested in your loser boyfriend. But _you_…well, your misery is just delicious!" He cackled, holding out his glowing green hands. "Spectra and I make a great team because we both feed off negative emotion, and you are just full of it, my dear! If you're good now, I can't wait to see what you'll give us after we kill off the Phantom – permanently. It's about time, I think!"

Sam let out an involuntary gasp. _All this just to get to me, even now? They'd kill Danny just because they know it'd break my heart? That's low…_

_Well, I'm not going let it happen. I'll take care of this one myself! I've got one shot…if this equipment really does what it's supposed to!_

"Kill him?" Sam repeated weakly, trying to look as vulnerable as possible. "Please don't do that! I'll surrender, if you promise to leave him alone!"

"Sam, _no!_" Tucker protested, still trying to climb to his feet. "They'll drain you dry! Danny wouldn't want that!"

She took a deep breath and dropped the Thermos onto the ground. "Maybe not, but I don't have a choice. If I go willingly, will you stay away from Danny?"

Bertrand looked absolutely ecstatic. "That might even be _better_ than if we killed him! Ah, the things you humans do for love! Heartbreak, imprisonment, yes, yes…that'll do nicely. So you'll come back to Amity Park without a fight?"

"Gladly," Sam said truthfully, willing Tucker to move faster. The dark-skinned man was standing shakily, with Bertrand's back still to him, looking at her in shock. She raised her hands in the universal gesture of surrender.

"What am I going to tell Danny if I let you go with this guy?" Tucker moaned, drawing a scowl from Bertrand.

"Don't hurt Tucker either," Sam added quickly, glaring over the ghost's shoulder at the short human. "That's part of the deal, if I'm going with you."

Bertrand approached her slowly, looking only slightly disappointed. "Fine, fine. We'll go now, so that when Spectra shows up your parents will find out you're gone right away. Come on, girl – we'll fly there." He reached out and snatched her by the arm—

And the Specter Deflector activated, zapping the ghost with thousands of brilliant bolts of energy. Sam grabbed Bertrand with both hands and held on, refusing to let him fall out of contact as she sent Tucker a desperate glance. "A little _help_ here?"

"Right!" Tucker picked up the Fenton Foamer from where it lay on the ground and shot a mass of green bubbles in her direction, coating both Sam and the ghost in ectoplasmic goo. Bertrand howled in pain and collapsed onto the grass, taking her with him, where she was just barely within reach of the fallen Thermos. Hanging onto the convulsing spook with one hand, Sam managed to aim the opening of the device at the pile of green and activated it, being thrown backward with the force of the energy shooting out of the container. It locked in on Bertrand and began to tractor him in, barely giving him a chance to scream out before he was drawn into it, and a wisp of smoke issued from the business end of the Thermos. Blindly she groped around the grass until she found the cap, and shoved it over the opening.

"Ew," she finally said, trying to clear the green mess out of her eyes.

"…Wow," Tucker managed to say at length. "Danny wasn't kidding about you being a take-charge kind of girl. I seriously thought you were going to just give yourself up."

"Not my style," Sam told him, wishing she could see. She flung several handfuls of ectoplasmic foam from her face onto the grass, but found that it was still writhing in her hair as though alive. She accepted a scrap of cloth that Tucker pressed into her hand. "Thanks."

"Anytime." Tucker helped the teenager to her feet and attempted to clean her off as best he could with the sleeve of his cardigan. "At least we got rid of one of them. Without Bertrand, Spectra's pretty much useless."

"Is that so."

Sam groaned, recognizing Penelope's voice speaking behind her before turning around with a frown. "Great, I thought your PDA was going to let us know when she got close?"

"It's supposed to," Tucker replied, looking at Spectra as though he actually expected an answer. "But it's not detecting any ghosts nearby."

The therapist, still in her human disguise, made a dismissive gesture. "Come on, kids, you should know better than to expect your toys to work on me." She looked around. "Hey, aren't we missing someone?"

"Do we have to go through this _again_?" Tucker complained, but then he straightened suddenly and a smile spread over his features, one hand moving to hover near his earphone. He glanced over his right shoulder, drawing Sam and Penelope's attention to the two people just entering the scene at a run. Sam's heart leapt into her throat.

"Nope, the gang's all here," said Danny, his features stern. "I guess the party can start."

* * *

-_to be continued…_

A/N: I'm going to stop apologizing for "short" ones, since so many of them are short that we only really have "average-sized chapters" and "longer-ish chapters." :P Average/Shorter means more frequent updating, yes?


	24. Paradise Lost

Consider the next five thousand words to be both an apology for taking so long, being away all last week, and compensation for the last few shorter chapters. :) I thought I only had 2 or so more chapters left in me, but I did want to make one hundred thousand words now that I'm so close, so maybe I can dredge up a few more…or they'll go towards the omake(s). We'll see.

That FOP one-shot is still getting pushed away. This scene took _way_ longer than I expected…but it's a battle scene, so we can expect that, I guess. I hope it's at least half-believable.

Thanks **luv2bamom, Crossover Fiend, shadow929, dPhantoMfreak, dArkliTe-sPirit, Lt. Commander Richie, Sweeteen19, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, dessyweird51, Flashx11, Phantom of a Rose, L'ange-Sans-Ailes **(Plan? What plan? XP)**, passing4insane**, **Rift** ('fraidnot, it's something that needs to be done from the inside), **Anomaly25, HAlFa34, animeobsessed3191 **(I suppose I will n.n)**, Jenna Dax, SilverstarsEbonyskies, **and **Alucard Hemlock** for reviewing the last chapter! Thanks for sticking with me, guys, and we're almost to the end (but zomg don't stop reviewing just because we're getting close :O)

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 24

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

"Danny! And Jasmine, too. How sweet of you to come!" Spectra said cheerfully, giving the newcomers a winning smile. "Your timing is as wonderful as ever, of course."

"Give it up," Danny said, a little too loudly, nervousness showing through in his voice. _He's worried,_ Sam realized. _We must actually be in trouble this time. _But his expression was steadfast, his smile scornful, and both he and Jazz wore Hazmat suits and belts full of strange items. At least he _looked_ ready for a fight, even if he didn't sound entirely confident. "It's four against one now."

"Only until I let Bertrand back out," Spectra said sweetly.

Tucker chose that moment to reach down and wipe some of the gook away from Sam's belt with the sleeve of his sweater. "Only if you're willing to go through the Specter Deflector. Sure would make it easy on us if we caught you the same way."

"Gee, Tuck, the element of surprise might have been useful there," Danny said, rolling his eyes.

"Uh...sorry."

Spectra, however, recognized the belt Sam wore and looked slightly winded, if only for a second. "Well then, I guess we'll have to do things the hard way."

And then, to the shock of all but Danny, Penelope transformed into her ghost form, the same shadowy, glowing visage Sam had met in the forest that morning. Her arms elongated and her legs lost their shape, melding together into a tail-like appendage unlike Danny's, jagged and dangerous-looking. Her eyes were crimson, and violet lips were pulled back to show off her wicked fangs. Tucker took an involuntary step back, but Sam held her ground. "Well, Danny? Shall we dance?" Spectra offered, holding out her clawed hand with a malicious smile.

"You're on," Danny spat, clenching his hands into fists. Sam thought for one horrified moment that he didn't have a plan, but then again took note of various cylindrical objects in holsters at his belt. Unfortunately, it was hard for her to be back-up when she wasn't entirely certain what his weapons were capable of.

Spectra just looked at Danny with interest. "This is new. You're not 'going ghost' today?"

"Not today or ever again," he affirmed with a grim smile. "I've been cured."

"Oooh." Spectra actually hung back for a moment, looking him up and down. "Really now. Only human, and you're still planning to fight me alone?"

"Four against one," Sam reminded her, drawing a glare from the ghost. She shook the Thermos that contained Bertrand for good measure.

"Two kids and two geezers. Should I be frightened?" Spectra let out a mocking laugh.

The Goth girl was about to reply with something insulting (she hadn't quite decided on what she'd say) when a metallic clunk resounded at Danny's feet, a sound that drew the attention of all present and cause Jazz to jump slightly. One of the objects that Danny had hung at his belt was lying on the driveway. Sam thought it might have been a smoke bomb or something similar, but Danny looked slightly embarrassed, indicating that he hadn't meant to drop the item or draw attention to the fact that they were arming themselves. He glanced at his sister instead, raising one eyebrow.

Jazz frowned and withdrew her hand from behind her back, holding a C-shaped device that looked like something out of a science-fiction movie. She thumbed one of the controls and immediately the weapon unfolded into a battle suit of sorts; a metallic second skin that covered her blue Hazmat from head to toe. Spectra scowled at this action, but didn't speak.

While Jazz was distracting them with her armour, Sam finally noticed, Danny had abandoned the silvery item and instead produced a pair of huge metal gloves from somewhere, which were snugly positioned over his hands before they caught the attention of the ghost. It took a moment for Spectra to observe these as well, and her frown deepened. "All right, that's enough playing around, I can see you actually intend to put up a fight. But don't count on an easy win!"

She dove at Danny, who awkwardly lurched out of the way. Sam realized with dread that he _still_ was not used to being back in his human form, and was moving even slower than Jazz was in the battle suit. Maybe that was why he'd been so clumsy with the cylinder he'd dropped earlier. Luckily, the elder Fenton sibling knew how to handle the weapon she was fighting with, even if she hadn't had to use it in years, and easily compensated for Danny's loss of speed. Jazz landed a punch that sent Spectra reeling, needing to steady and compose herself several metres above Sam's head.

The Goth teen also prepared herself for a surprise attack, should the ghost decide to go after the more vulnerable targets instead, clenching her hands around the Thermos. Spectra seemed to recognize Sam's belt was going to make it hard to get to her or Tucker, though, and chose to outright ignore Jazz as well, keeping her eyes on Danny. "Ah, how the mighty have fallen! Can't even fight your own battles anymore, little guy?"

"My battles?" Danny said hotly. "Last time we fought, you tried to kill my sister. Now you're attacking Sam, too. Why's this all about _me_?"

"If it wasn't for you, I'd already have won," Spectra said reasonably.

The former halfa groaned. "Uh...right."

"So let's make this fair. One on one."

"Since when have you ever played _fair_?" Jazz demanded.

Danny, however, took the bait. "Back off, Jazz. I can handle her alone."

"_Danny_!"

"What did we talk about before we left the house?" The younger Fenton pinned his sister with a knowing stare. "I don't want you guys getting hurt. Let me do this, if she wants a fair fight."

"One on one isn't exactly even if it's a ghost versus a human," Tucker said cautiously. The Fenton Foamer still dangled from his right hand, pointed towards the ground. Its nozzle still dripped with green goo from its last use.

Danny simply fell into a battle stance, resting his weight on the balls of his feet, brandishing his gloved hands in front of him like weapons. "Don't you think I know that?"

Tucker didn't reply, simply watching Danny as he prepared for Spectra's approach - and then she dived, claws outstretched like a cat. He met her head-on, catching her wrists, and to Sam's shock the ghost didn't seem to be able to wrench free of his grip _or_ phase through it. Instead she swung her tail-like appendage at Danny's legs, knocking him off his feet and then dragging him skyward when he was still scrambling for purchase. Now he was the one flailing, but had to hold fast to the ghost, or he would fall from ten metres up.

"Danny!" Sam screamed, unable to conceal her fright. She looked at Jazz, who was still wearing the Fenton Peeler armour, her face horrified behind the protective mask and her right hand shaking visibly. Still, the elder Fenton held her ground as promised, ready to jump in if needed.

"I can handle it!" Danny yelled needlessly, getting over his initial panic and instead trying to use the position to his advantage. Sam could only pray that Spectra's energy-draining powers were somehow impeded by the gloves he wore, judging from the way he kept his face far away from her grasp and was careful not to touch her with any other part of his body. Instead he began to pull her hands away from one another until they were extended as far away from her, spread-eagled, as they could get. Spectra growled and tried to break free of his grip, but Danny's hold was too strong.

"The Fenton Ghost Gloves," Tucker said eagerly. "Nothing can get through them. Too bad Danny doesn't have his hands free to land a punch or two."

Even Spectra seemed to realize that they were at a stalemate. She began to whirl around, and with Danny's inability to fly he was carried in her momentum, unable to hold steady even with the Gloves on. Spectra laughed and spoke loudly enough for all to hear. "We could do this all day, or maybe just until you get too tired to hold on, don't you think?"

Danny grunted in response and wrenched the spook's wrists across one another, causing her to slow and then abruptly stop. Somehow, even though Spectra was pulling away, Danny was not budging with her, and they hung motionless for several seconds, high over Jazz's head.

What happened next no one but the combatants could fully determine, because the ghost spoke so quietly that Sam couldn't hear over her own heartbeat, and Danny's reply was swallowed up by Spectra's laughter. Then, at the same time, all three people on the ground realized with horror that the spook had somehow gotten past Danny's guard and wrapped her wicked-looking tail around his legs.

"She's draining his energy," Sam whispered, unable to take her eyes off the scene unfolding in the air. Danny looked physically ill, but he held on, closing his eyes when Spectra finally started talking loud enough for all to hear.

"Isn't that sweet? He's fighting alone even when he feels ever so lonely!" she told them, locking eyes with Sam. "I don't think I've ever tasted misery this delicious before. Like a fine wine that's been sitting for _sixty years_!"

Danny's expression betrayed his turmoil, and it just egged Spectra on, widening her smile. "Doubt...hatred...oh, you know it, you know how much everyone hates you! How does that feel, to be thrown out of your own town, that you've practically given your life to protect? How's it feel, to regret your own existence? And there's something else, something new...regret? Why, Danny, it feels to me that you didn't want to be human after all!"

"Don't pretend that you can read what I'm thinking," Danny growled, trying with renewed energy to wrench away. Spectra's tail was wrapped too firmly around him to escape, though, and he only further ensnared himself in it.

_That can't be true,_ Sam thought, willing herself to look at him instead of at the Thermos clutched in her hands. _He said he wished for his humanity back...that he was afraid of what his ghost half was doing to him._

_Or...was it that he hated what everyone _else_ was doing to his ghost half? _Sam wasn't really sure. She looked at him for confirmation, but Spectra had raised her own hands with Danny attached so that she could stare him in the face. "Then what's this I'm feeling in you, little boy? What's this fresh new regret, this new self-loathing, mixed in with all that irritating adulation? Shouldn't you be _happy_ that you can live and love and die like the rest of those pathetic humans?"

"Not that I have to answer to you," Danny spat, "but my ghost powers would be a great help in putting you out of commission permanently."

"You're lying," Spectra said in a singsong voice, "but I don't care, because kiddo, your emotions are running _wild_. It's fantastic!"

"Shut up," Danny moaned, his struggles slowing until finally Spectra freed one of her hands and used it to capture his chin, then forcibly remove one of the Fenton Gloves, which she tossed over the wrought-iron fence that surrounded the Manson property..

"Fear makes it so much better," she told him with a smile. "How about we add a little pain?"

With that, she flung Danny into one of the huge oak trees on the lawn behind Sam. He disappeared into the foliage with a loud cry, and the leaves stilled, but he didn't fall to the ground below the tree or immediately appear. Sam prayed he hadn't broken his neck in the headfirst flight into its branches.

"Or, you could be dead already, it makes no difference to me either way," Spectra said with a shrug. "Just means I get my pick of a new victim quicker than expected."

"How's that a fair fight?" Tucker demanded angrily. "If you're going after us _anyway_, shouldn't we be fighting you off now?"

"I don't want to kill you first," Spectra said as though the answer was obvious. "You've got plenty of your own misery for me to feed off."

"I'm also not quite done yet," Danny said evenly, dropping to the ground from the branches of the oak tree. Miraculously, he didn't appear to have a scratch on him, though his expression was positively furious. Sam sighed in relief. _Pure luck must have saved him there!_

"You always were notoriously hard to kill," Spectra said in disgust. "Wonder what you can do without your gloves, though, hmm?"

"You act as though I only brought one weapon."

"But you're down two, butterfingers," Spectra pointing out, glancing at the cylinder Danny had dropped earlier, which was now in Jazz's hands. "I get the feeling that you're not in as good shape as you used to be."

"Who cares? I've got enough to beat _you_." Danny grabbed another silver tube from his belt and ran at the ghost, brandishing it menacingly. Spectra, looking mildly amused, actually stayed still long enough for him to utilize the item, a grappling-hook-like device that ensnared her in a glowing green net. Danny took one hand off the handle and reached for the Thermos slung over his back.

"Oh, please," Spectra drawled, tearing the net apart with her bare hands. "You _really_ don't think those toys are going to work on me? We've evolved, Danny. Those weapons you're throwing around were made before I even _died, _and I'm not as young as I look."

"Danny," Jazz said uneasily, "are you sure you don't want help?" They were all acutely aware that Danny didn't have anything left to fight with except his fists and the Thermos. The Grappler was useless, Jazz had the Jack-o-Nine-Tails, and the Ghost Gloves had been put out of commission. If Danny had more weapons concealed, Sam couldn't see them, and unless they were under the skin-tight white Hazmat, it wasn't very likely. Obviously Jazz had been packing the heavy artillery, and they had effectively voted her out of the fight before it began.

Spectra didn't give Danny a chance to answer his sister or re-arm himself. One of her clawed hands shot out and grabbed him by the neck, pressing into it until she drew blood. "There..._now_ you're feeling a little pain. How is it?" She glanced over her shoulder at Jazz. "Jasmine, your brother has a much better chance of living if you take that silly suit off. I hate having weapons at my back."

"And if I don't?"

"I slit his throat right now."

Jazz frowned behind the clear facemask and deactivated the armour without question. Spectra glared expectantly until she finally dropped the Fenton Peeler onto the grass, where it landed without a sound.

"There, that's better," Spectra cooed. "That little thing might have actually been a threat."

Danny just groaned in reply. His aura, or something very like it, was substantial in the air and curling around him and the ghost like a despondent black mist. Spectra breathed it in with glee, the glow around her black form doubling in intensity.

"And now, Danny, do you know what I'm going to do next?"

"No," he wheezed, staring her straight in the eye.

"I'm going to kill you," she said simply. "I'm going to kill you, and then your sister - but not until after I drain her dry, I'm sure an old maid like her has plenty of regrets - and then the old man."

"Hey!" Tucker cried. "Who are you calling old?"

"And then I'll leave Samantha alive," she continued with a vicious grin. "I figured it out, Danny, all that happiness floating around in your emotions - you're in _love_! And she has to be too, right? Won't it be nice when I kill you right in front of her eyes? Little Miss Samantha's parents already think she's crazy, so I've got the perfect defence, perfect plan, perfect _everything_. And you just strolled into my trap, you silly little freak!"

Danny's eyes were slitted, so angry they were practically glowing. "I won't let you lay a hand on her."

"Oh, please, more anger, more despair, Danny!" Spectra laughed murderously. "You've only got a few more seconds, so give me everything you've got!"

"_Shut up_!"

The ghost ignored him, and looked at Sam and Jazz in turn. "How are you girls feeling? It's almost your turn now. Any last words you want to say?"

_Last words,_ Sam thought in horror, not wanting to steer down such a path of thought just yet. _I can't say last words, because that's just like saying that I give up on him..._

But what could Danny do? He was helpless, and any attack from her, Jazz or Tucker would end in Danny's abrupt death. Spectra could snap his neck in a second, if she wished it.

"Nothing? That makes things so much quicker," the ghost said sweetly. "I'll be honest with you, Danny, I don't really feel like making it quick and painless for you. Sorry, too much history. But don't worry, you'll be seeing your sister and your friend on the other side quickly enough!"

Spectra turned toward the guest house that sat on the edge of the property, near the ornate marble fountain Sam's parents had had installed for their twenty-fifth wedding anniversary, and flew towards it with Danny dangling from her hands by his neck. He squirmed like a fish caught on a line. Shocked into immobility, Sam reached one hand out after them. "Wait! What are you doing?"

Ignoring Sam, Spectra went intangible and flew into the guest house. Three pairs of eyes stayed locked on the wall through which the ghost had disappeared for a long moment, holding their breath, unwilling to be the first to speak. And then, abruptly, Spectra rematerialized outside without Danny, her lips upturned in a smile.

"Where is he?" Jazz demanded, her eyes flickering down to the Fenton Peeler on the grass.

"He's a little tied up," Spectra mocked, following her glance and snatching up the weapon from where it lay. "Wouldn't want any of you to be caught up in the explosion, so won't you come this way?"

"What explosion?" Tucker asked suspiciously.

"Why, I'm so glad you asked!" The ghost smiled viciously and aimed one palm at the split-level house, firing a huge ball of energy at the roof. Both Jazz and Sam cried out and ran to stop her, but Spectra rose high into the air, out of their reach. "How do you like this? They'll never identify the body now - which pretty much puts me in the clear, ha ha! I couldn't have asked for a better place to fight!" She pumped another half-dozen blasts into it, cackling madly. The roof of the guest house began to crumble, and small fires broke out on the wooden siding, shooting like lightning across the outer walls.

Tucker had already taken aim at Spectra and fired, catching her in the back. She stumbled in the air and turned to sneer at him, tossing the Fenton Peeler out into the street before diving at the new enemy. Sam reacted quickly and intercepted the ghost before she could reach Tucker, however, and Spectra was forced to back off or risk getting caught in the same situation that had gotten Bertrand captured. Instead, she knocked the Fenton Foamer out of Tucker's hand with a well-aimed burst of energy, and turned her attention back to Jazz, who didn't have the protection of a Specter Deflector or the reflexes to take her out of harm's way.

A horrifying crash then resounded from the other side of the grounds, capturing the attention of all, including Spectra, who smiled at the sound. The roof of the guest house had already given way, and as they looked on, the second floor collapsed onto the first, what little had not already been consumed by the fire. Jazz let out a scream and her legs buckled, causing her to collapse onto the grass. "_Danny_!"

"Oh, that's a shame," Spectra frowned. "I was hoping I could get a little bit of energy while you were still hoping he'd survive. You can't just find that kind of terror everywhere."

"You're a monster," Sam said, her eyes brimming with tears. "Danny never should have agreed to a fair fight with you."

"He never was particularly smart," Spectra said loftily. "Only survived because he was a halfa. As a _human_, he had no chance."

Sam found that she didn't know what to say in reply. She shut her eyes tightly and tried to force away her shock and horror at Danny's certain death, knowing it was exactly what Spectra wanted. She wasn't going to let the ghost have her way without a fight.

But Jazz could not control her emotions so easily, not for the little brother she had valiantly protected for so long. Anguished sobs broke free of her throat and she pounded her fists against the grass, uprooting it in handfuls. Spectra took the opportunity to approach the jump suited woman and lay a hand on her shoulder, smirking as the energy transfer between them began. She spoke, taunting Jazz as she had with Danny, but with less malice and much more thinly-veiled glee. "There there, Jasmine, I know it's hard. Seems like you never were able to be there for Danny when you needed him, hmm?"

"No," Jazz sobbed, her voice finally breaking Sam's reverie. The Goth thrust the Thermos containing Bertrand into Tucker's hands and stormed towards the ghost and her victim, neither of whom seemed to register or care about her approaching presence.

"You were always so _helpless_, counting on him to save you. I heard plenty about it in the Ghost Zone, you know. Everyone was _always_ going after you to get to Danny, and you couldn't do a thing except wait for him to show up. And _you_!" Spectra rounded on Sam before she could draw too close, keeping a hand on Jazz's trembling form. "It's your fault that he's dead."

"My fault?" Sam repeated incredulously. Hadn't Spectra already figured out that Sam wasn't going to fall for her tricks? "How do you figure that?"

"Of course," the ghost said smoothly. "Aren't you the one who brought him out of hiding? Aren't you the one who exposed his secret to the whole town? And who do you think he was coming to _save_ when he came here to Whipstaff?"

Sam opened her mouth, but nothing came out of it. She didn't want to fall prey to Spectra's guilt trips...but now the monster was telling the truth. She was laying all of Sam's faults right out where everyone, including Sam herself, could not deny them.

"That's enough," said a familiar male voice, the speaker hidden until all eyes were pointed in his direction, less than a metre from where Jazz knelt in the grass. Danny Phantom materialized between Sam and Spectra with blinding speed, knocking the ghost's hand away from Jazz, who was gasping for breath.

Spectra heaved a sigh. "I guess I should have expected that to happen."

Danny's back was to Sam, but when his shoulders tensed she knew what Spectra had to mean. Surely Danny had died in there, under the rubble, and then he too had become a ghost. His clothing was an inversion of the white Hazmat suit he had worn to the fight, identical to what Phantom had been wearing for so many years. His hair was back to white, and though Sam couldn't see his face, she knew his eyes had reverted to that brilliant green.

Sam was immensely glad to see him again, but apprehensiveness dulled her relief. Was this truly the Danny of old, or would becoming a full ghost affect his personality? Had he died wishing for revenge, as so many of the wandering spirits in _Legends of Amity Park_ done? She didn't have time to wonder. Sam backed away, conscious of the Specter Deflector's presence around her waist and the knowledge of what she might do to Danny if she accidentally touched him. Instead she kept her distance, returning to Tucker's side and wordlessly accepting the Thermos from him.

"So _now_ you're going to be a challenge? That's kind of inconvenient." Spectra scowled. "At least tell me you're _completely_ dead this time, I'm sick of playing around with you."

Danny snarled in response and dove at her, dragging the shapeless ghost into the air, away from Jazz. The elder Fenton refused to look up, though she'd clearly heard Danny's intervention, and continued to clutch at the grass, trembling with anger and sorrow. Danny stole one last look at his sister - even in daylight, Sam noticed, the frightful glow of his eyes was visible - before grabbing his opponent by the shoulders. Spectra did not look particularly intimidated at first, but then her eyes widened when she found she could not immediately break free.

Danny looked at her without remorse. "This ends _now_."

And it had to. The crash of the guest house falling apart had alerted someone, or everyone, in the mansion to the melee happening in their yard, and now sirens were screaming in the distance, approaching fast. Danny looked down at the three humans still on the ground. "Get out of here!" he ordered. "Hurry! Don't get caught!"

Tucker responded in a heartbeat, rushing to Jazz's side and helping her to her feet. He looked expectantly up at Danny, who still had an iron grip on the thrashing ghost. "Where should I take her?"

"Anywhere! Away!" Danny yelled, his mask of anger cracking slightly. He was scared too, Sam realized. Maybe he hadn't changed after all. "Take the Specter Speeder, and pick up the weapons we dropped!"

"Right!" Tucker half carried, half-dragged the semi-conscious Jazz through the gates that separated the Manson property from the rest of the town of Whipstaff. "Come on, Sam!"

The Goth ran forward after him, but less to follow than to intercept, her hands fumbling with the buckle on the Specter Deflector. "Wait, Tucker, take this. I'm staying here with Danny."

"You can't," he said disbelievingly. "You'll be caught."

"This is my house," she reminded him. "They'll wonder where I am, anyway." That wasn't all of her reason for staying behind, or for removing the belt, but Tucker had to accept it at face value and go while he and Jazz could still escape. She physically pushed him out the gate and closed it with a loud _clang_.

"Take care!" Tucker cried, his voice moving further away.

Sam nodded in response and turned her attention back to Danny, who was tussling with Spectra. He now had the other ghost's wrists trapped, and using her struggles as momentum, hurled her at the earth as hard as he was physically able. Dazed or simply confident, Spectra did not phase through the ground but slammed into it on her back, stopping to glare momentarily up at Danny before going on the offence once again.

Except Sam didn't give her the chance. She flung the cap off the Thermos in her hands and aimed it while the ghost's attention was still on her enemy in the sky, oblivious to the weapon's energy until it was encircling her, pulling her in. "What? _Nooooooooo--_"

And just like that, Penelope Spectra was out of the fight.

Sam dove for the Thermos cap and replaced it, casting around for other evidence that needed to be taken away, but Danny was one step ahead of her. He had retrieved the Jack-O-Nine-Tails he'd dropped earlier as well as the left Ghost Glove beside the oak tree, and the abandoned Fenton Grappler. Before Sam could turn around to look for Danny himself, the tingling feeling of invisibility swept through her like a cold tide, and he was standing behind her, whispering in her ear. "You shouldn't have stayed. But thank you."

"How could I have left?" Sam wondered aloud.

"Heh."

She swallowed nervously. A fire truck had pulled up outside the gate, and at least three police cars were joining it. "Now what?"

"Now? Well...I guess we run."

* * *

-_to be continued…_


	25. Say It Isn't So

A/N: Yes! I finally have _Reality Trip_ in my possession and some friends are coming by in a few hours to watch it with me and pig out on sugary things! (We'll miss you, **mrit**, but **Akoya** and **Epyon,** you'd better be there! I bought stuff for s'mores. :D) I am so looking forward to it. I had to watch like twenty episodes of_ Fairly Oddparents _last night to stop myself from putting on _Reality Trip_ and watching it alone, heh heh. Was really too tired to write, but managed to finish off this chapter, which I'd had in the works for a few days. And still isn't as long as I'd have preferred it to be.

Thanks to **conan98002, Annabelle Carter, shadow929, silvermoonphantom, luv2bamom, Lt. Commander Richie, dPhantoMfreak, Alucard Hemlock, AkoyaMizuno, Emunah, Jenna Dax, Phantom of a Rose, Jimmy the Gothic Egg, SilverstarsEbonyskies, starfruit-22, Leppers, passing4insane, dArkliTe-sPirit, animeobsessed3191, Anomaly25 **(and thank you so much for your comments on _Icebreaker_! I'll write a proper review reply later)**, Soni, dragonbonez, Crossover Fiend **(ah, we're not quite full circle yet, stay tuned!)**, mrit, L-ange-Sans-Ailes, Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet**, and **HAlFa34 **for their reviews last chapter! I realized after the first alert came in, that I should probably be barricading myself inside, preparing for the "You killed Danny! T.T" mob. Yeek.

Fortunately, most people seemed to be too much in shock to actually make threats. :D

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 25

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Danny swept Sam up into his arms and they took to the air, slowly, the scene outside the hedges and gate coming into view. The Specter Speeder was long gone, and though both Penelope and Tucker's cars remained, the firefighters, policemen and medical units had made a beeline for the destroyed guest house, unaware of the solid evidence the two vehicles could provide them with.

"I have to get rid of the cars," Danny said, sighing. "Before anybody figures out who owns them."

"How?" Sam wondered.

"I'll bring them to Tucker's kid's place. I hope that's where he took Jazz, at least. As long as I take them one at a time, I can make them go invisible until I get onto a main road, I think."

"...You can drive?"

He just glared at her.

Sam frowned. "Okay...I guess I'll go inside and face the music, maybe I can do something to keep the suspicion off of us. Or at least find out what they saw." She pointed at the window she'd used to sneak out of the house. "That's my room, there."

Danny nodded assent and flew through the wall into the room she'd indicated, setting Sam gently on her feet on the black rug. He accepted the Thermos from her and turned to go, and she reached to catch his arm, but her fingers slid right through him. "Danny--"

"Yeah?"

"You'll come back for me, right?" Sam couldn't quite explain why she was so afraid he'd just disappear if he didn't come right back. She supposed it was only her overactive imagination. Why shouldn't he come back? Hadn't Spectra confirmed it - he liked her, maybe even _loved_ her?

If that was true, Sam wanted him to know that she wanted to see him again.

And maybe Danny had been wondering the same. His face broke into a shy smile, and he nodded wordlessly before disappearing back through the wall. Sam watched him go before running to the window, but already he was invisible, and she drew back, preparing herself for the chaos she was sure to find downstairs. She removed her skirt, tank top, boots and leggings and brought them into her bathroom, throwing them into the tub and running hot water to wash away as much of the green foam as possible, then used a wet facecloth to wipe it away from her face, neck, arms and legs. A quick shampoo in the sink took care of the gunk in her hair, which had been hardening like glue.

Throwing on a fresh shirt, purple skirt, arm and leg warmers and her boots, Sam wrung the water out of the clothes in the bathtub and stuffed them at the bottom of the laundry pile, praying that once she'd been caught and taken in, nobody would find the items and use them as proof of her involvement in the ghost fight. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and took a final look around the room. It was time to check out the scene downstairs, and if she couldn't return to her room, everything that could be used against her would be hidden already, and Danny would track her down before things got too bad. She hoped.

Unlocking the door, Sam peered down one end of the hall and then the other, taking a deep breath as she smoothed her hair back one last time. She left the door slightly ajar and stepped into the hallway, wincing inwardly at the loud clunking of her boots on the hardwood floor.

The hallway ended at the top of a large staircase that opened into the foyer, and Sam was unsurprised to see that both the butler and one of the maids were peering through the windows on either side of the front door. What _was_ unexpected was the reaction when the maid - a pretty girl barely older than Sam herself - became conscious of the sound of Sam's approach and turned around excitedly to greet her. "Miss Manson! There's quite a commotion going on out there, just look!"

The butler, Gar, added, "It seems as though the guest house just caught fire. We heard a terrible sound, and when I looked out to check, it had practically fallen apart. Jeanne called the fire department, but I suspect there's no saving it now."

Sam waited for them to continue, to say "_And we saw you out there fighting a monster_!" but the accusation didn't come. Instead Jeanne simply moved out of Sam's way so the girl could clearly see the firefighters hosing down the remains of the house. Mouth dry, Sam managed to stutter, "Where are my parents?"

"They've just gone out to have a look at it," Gar replied. "You seemed to be asleep when we knocked, so we thought it best to leave you be."

"Oh, of course." Relief flooded through Sam - maybe they _hadn't_ been seen after all. The area where the fight had taken place was easily viewable from many of the mansion's windows, but just barely out of sight from the front door area, thanks to the foliage. Once again Sam found herself mentally thanking the landscaper for his excellent placement of trees.

_Of course, nothing's ever that easy, surely they'll somehow trace the destruction of the house back to Penelope..._

But how?

_Ghosts don't leave fingerprints. Ecto-blasts don't leave...well, what cop OUTSIDE of Amity Park is going to say "this is obviously the work of a ghost"? Without proof, they've got nothing. And while my _parents_ are going to jump to the conclusion that it had something to do with Danny, why would anyone else? Nobody's going to believe them._

_And then there's the matter of Danny's body...will they ever know who, exactly, died in there?_

Sam turned away from the window. "Jeanne, I'm going out shortly, and I don't know how long I'll be. Please let my parents know, okay?"

"Certainly, Miss Manson."

"Thanks." Sam gave both maid and butler a short wave and jogged back up the stairs and up to her room. She shut the door behind her, scanning for any sign of Danny, and finding none, sat down at her desk, opening up a notebook to a blank page.

_Dear Mom and Dad,_

_I may be gone for a while, and_

_I'm sorry we can't seem to come_

_to an understanding. _

_Please don't worry about me._

_I love you both._

_-Sam_

Satisfied with the simplicity of the letter - just enough information for her parents to grasp the situation, but not enough to help them or anyone else find her - she stuffed it in an envelope, wrote "Mom and Dad" on the front, and turned it over inconspicuously on the desk. When they realized she wasn't coming back, they'd find it quickly enough.

Sam then set about packing a few items to take with her; dumping the contents of her spider backpack onto her bed, she found that there were only a few things she thought she'd really need. First was the book, of course, and alongside it as many changes of clothes as she could fit. She threw the wet items she'd worn to the fight into a shopping bag and stuffed them in alongside her purse, then slid the clasp shut with a final _click_. Finished.

Sam was thus sitting on her bed, wearing the backpack, when Danny returned from dropping off the cars. "Hey there. How'd it go...?"

"They didn't see anything," Sam confirmed. "So let's just get out of here before they start wondering why Penelope didn't show, okay?"

"Uh...about that, Sam." Danny's expression was unreadable. "You know and I know that I can't take you with me. Not after...everything that's happened."

"Danny Fenton." Her voice was cold as steel. She reached for his hand, and the ghost boy wisely became solid and allowed her to touch him. "Do you think, for some reason, that 'everything that's happened' is going to make me give up on you?"

He looked confused for a brief moment, and then shook his head slowly. "I guess not, but circumstances have changed. I'm back like...this..." he gestured at himself with his free hand, "and on our way out of Amity we were still hearing news broadcasts that every hunter in town was after me. I can't go back there, at least not yet. And where I'm going, I really shouldn't take you."

"Where?" she asked curiously.

"Uh." Danny rubbed the back of his neck, looking embarrassed. "I was actually thinking about going into the Ghost Zone, you know, maybe setting up a place for myself in case I needed to stay. I need to talk to someone in there as soon as I can."

"Then I'll come with you," Sam said determinedly.

Danny shook his head. "You can't, I just sent Jazz back to Amity Park in the Specter Speeder. I was going to fly there."

"Why can't I fly with you?"

"You'd actually want to?" He smiled wryly. "I got the feeling that you didn't like intangibility much. And the Ghost Zone is pretty dangerous - they don't much like humans or Earthly items coming in there."

"I don't, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't do it if I had to. I'm already a crack shot with that Thermos thing of yours, I can take care of myself."

Danny laughed, and the tension between them broke abruptly. "You really _aren't_ going to take no for an answer, are you?"

"Sorry, no."

"Okay." He tried to look serious, but the smile was still tugging at the corners of his mouth. "I guess you can come with me, as long as you agree to a few things."

Sam grinned. "Let's hear them."

"One, you let your parents know that you're leaving. I'm not going to be blamed for kidnapping you."

"Done. I handled that while I was waiting for you." She thumbed in the direction of the door. "Obviously, I wasn't letting you go off alone."

"Typical," he said, good-naturedly. "Two, when I go to see Vlad, I have to talk to him alone about something important. Please don't ask any questions about it. If things work out positively, I'll tell you."

"Done."

Danny exhaled loudly. "And that's it. Are you ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be." Sam glanced one last time over her shoulder at the desk, the letter, the door. She'd be back eventually...probably.

* * *

The flight back to Amity Park was a short one, and Sam and Danny exchanged few words during it, ostensibly because Sam seemed to be enjoying the view. In truth, she wasn't entirely certain _what_ to say. The scene with Spectra, though they had come away victorious, had put a dark new spin on everything. She hesitated to even ask how Jazz and Tucker were doing, not wanting to bring up anything Danny didn't want to talk about yet.

Danny himself looked extremely conflicted. Sam had snuck glances at his face throughout their journey to the Ghost Zone, and he'd been distracted, deep in thought and often frowning. It was so much harder to pretend that nothing had changed between them when he was so obviously torn. And why shouldn't he be? Sam had shut her eyes tightly, and only opened them once she was confident she wouldn't just break down.

"This is it," Danny said once they'd reached the Ghost Portal beneath Jazz's apartment. Sam wanted to ask why they were using Jazz's portal instead of the one beneath the former FentonWorks, but held back, conscious of the way they entered the house intangibly from the back, diving through the floor of the porch. It seemed he didn't want to talk to Jazz any more than Sam did, so if they could avoid an encounter with anyone, even an invisible one, she'd be happier.

The basement was lit only by Danny's ghostly glow, casting eerie shadows into the corners. He flipped a switch that flooded the spacious room with light, bringing to her attention a huge metal door outlined in an octagonal frame. She stared at it, and then at the huge electronic system alongside it. "And you say your parents built one of these _in the sixties_?"

"Sure," Danny shrugged, wiping dust off the console with a rag. "Keep in mind that Mom and Dad were geniuses. Except for when it came to common sense, in Dad's case. Because of what they did, they had a lot of technology available to them that wasn't publicly common or sometimes even known about. Kind of helped that the government wanted to keep the ghosts in as confined an area as possible, so my parents' projects were always well-funded."

_That's a big change from the state of the city now, when most people don't even want to admit the ghosts exist,_ Sam thought sourly. Like _her_ father had.

Danny continued, oblivious to Sam's inner monologue. "This is the Ghost Portal Jazz and I built while I was living with her. It's pretty much the same as the one my parents made, right down to the Fenton genetic lock. We keep that turned off most of the time though, in case of emergency.

_Like now_, Sam thought as Danny threw the switch to allow them entrance. The portal yawned open, teeming with bright green energy that seemed almost alive, drifting counter clockwise into itself. It looked as though it was some kind of alien creation, not something that had been designed and put together by an elderly female psychologist and her teenage brother.

Danny held out his hand. "I hope you're not wearing anything electronic. Stay close to me, don't let go unless I tell you to, and don't make eye contact with any ghost you might see. Clear?"

"Crystal." Sam deposited her backpack on the floor outside the portal. Instead of carrying her bridal-style, as he had before, Danny wrapped one arm around her waist and rose slightly into the air, extending his floating abilities to her merely with his touch. Sam took a deep breath and nodded.

He flew forward into the gate with her in tow, smiling slightly at the awed gasp that escaped Sam's throat. The Ghost Zone was always an impressive sight at first glance (providing you hadn't _already_ been attacked by something) and for Sam, whose love of the bizarre often had to be concealed from those around her, it was especially breathtaking. Her eyes sought to take in all of it at once while still obeying Danny's instructions. The phantom just grinned and took them further into the netherworld, thumbing the portal shut behind them via a remote control. "Vlad's place isn't far away from this portal. Actually, we were there earlier this afternoon, me and Jazz and Valerie, when your parents were kidnapping you."

Sam tore her attention away from the swirling landscape. "Valerie too?"

"Long story." Danny sighed. "I ran into Val right after I left your place and I ended up telling her my secret. She didn't believe me. That's what got me...ah...well, I didn't have a chance to tell you about that."

"She took away your ghost half," Sam supplied. "Tucker told me."

"Oh." He winced. Probably because, Sam realized, he felt bad about getting her hopes up. She tried to think of something noncommittal to reply with, but Danny continued before she could find the right words. "At least we're on good terms now. Val seemed to genuinely want to fix the problem, once she realized that I was who I said I was."

"Problem?" Sam echoed.

Danny winced again. "Well, at the time, we were worried about who was going to take care of Spectra and Bertrand if I couldn't go ghost. I thought that maybe Vlad would know how to reverse the effects of the weapon, because he knows about that kind of stuff, and..." he trailed off, frowning.

Sam could tell by the look on her companion's face that there was something he wasn't telling her, and he was speaking slowly enough that she was _sure_ he was giving each phrase careful thought before it left his mouth. She had an inkling of what the issue was, too, and decided to come right out and ask before he had the chance to try and "protect" her by obscuring the truth further. 'That's _really_ the reason why you wanted to be a half-ghost again?"

"What?" Danny slowed in mid-flight, his face carefully impassive. He was much better at concealing his emotions when he was a ghost than when he was human, she noticed. It probably had something to do with his body reacting faster than he could really think about how he should react to something; it'd probably make him a poker king if he were so inclined, but at that point it was becoming a huge inconvenience to Sam. For all she knew, each of his expressions were carefully chosen to match whatever story he wished to present.

Sam's face was clearly betraying her, no matter how much she tried to conceal her thoughts. "Spectra said something back there that made me start to wonder. She said she could feel you regretting something. Did you...not want to be fully human after all?"

Danny sighed and Sam got the feeling she'd asked the right question. "Please don't take anything that witch says at face value. Yeah, I was regretting something, a lot of things actually. She was kind of right. I was upset about losing my ghost half, and I know I really should have just been thankful. At the time." There was something strange in his voice; a rushed, confused quality . Sam realized that Danny probably didn't know _what_ he wanted or thought anymore. But again he continued before she could speak, hurrying, as though he'd been the one to do wrong. "I barely even remember a time when I didn't have these powers. When Danny Phantom wasn't _me_. What am I supposed to think when they're suddenly taken away, even when I'd been wishing for so long to be normal again? I just wanted to be able to grow old the normal way, like Jazz and Tucker. I wanted to not have to hide from anyone. I hadn't really counted on having to give up my ghost powers to get that, I suppose." He avoided her gaze. "Sam...I know you were probably happy when you found out I was fully human again. I'm sorry."

"Oh no, Danny," Sam cried, her eyes widening in astonishment. "Don't tell me you're feeling guilty about _that_!"

"Shouldn't I be?" he murmured.

"No," she replied firmly. "I understand exactly what you're saying and I respect that. Your ghost side is a part of who you are...you can't be expected to give up on it just like that. Don't make your decisions based on _me_, because I want you to be happy. Even now...even now, I'm glad to have you. You're still Danny, whether you're ghost, or human, or halfa."

And then, his face assumed an expression she wasn't quite sure how to interpret. It looked as though it started as a smile, then changed to a frown, then got caught in-between, brow furrowed and teeth gritted. Sam blinked twice, confused. "Uh...Danny?"

His eyes cleared and the strange look vanished as quickly as inexplicably as it had appeared. "Well...I'm glad you think so. I really didn't think anyone was going to understand why I'd be upset about something that seemed like such a good deal."

"Yeah..." She couldn't explain it, but something in Sam had also felt the loss of Danny Phantom, and mourned for him when she thought him gone. It probably had to do with the way they'd met, and the qualities that didn't quite carry over to his human self, like the luminescent green eyes, the slight echo to his voice, and the lightness in his step. Even the chill of his ethereal body, that crept across her torso now like a silk scarf, she knew that she would miss.

The problem was, now Sam was experiencing the loss of Danny _Fenton_ instead, and that didn't feel very good either.

* * *

-_to be continued…_


	26. Second Impressions

A/N: Decided to just chop off the part I'd been working on of this chapter and post it as-is. Stay tuned for 27!

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 26

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Sam waited in a foyer just inside Vlad Plasmius' ghostly abode. It bore similarity to a well-kept study, spacious and opulent while at the same time very homely, and it had a quaint, old-fashioned feel to it. Unlike Jazz's basement, which was just a real-world location accessible via a portal, this room was most definitely part of the Ghost Zone, right down to the Dali-esque properties of the ceiling and door frames, which appeared to perpetually melting. The walls were lined with what seemed to be real, physical books and objects, supported by a shelf that glowed softly with spectral energy. These items, she had noticed, were the only things in the room that she could make contact with, other than the carpeted floor. This ghost that Danny had come to see had obviously been very attached to his material possessions when he was alive, she thought, if he had managed to transport them into the Ghost Zone _and_ devise a way for them to exist in harmony with the very-unearthly room. Most of the items were football paraphernalia, including a number of autographed game souvenirs. Sam wondered idly just who this friend of Danny's was. The only object that wasn't a book or a sports memento was an ancient photograph, yellowed with age, of three people not so much older than Sam herself. Immediately she was drawn to a familiarity in the faces of two of the subjects; the woman's hair was unmistakably the same flaming reddish-orange as Jazz's, and her blue eyes were very like Danny's.

Human Danny's eyes, Sam reminded herself.

The three in the photo were smiling, and Sam guessed from the style of their clothing that it had been taken in the forties or fifties. Perhaps one of the two men in the picture was Vlad.

She replaced the frame on the shelf and drew back, skimming over the titles of books about everything from knitting to paranormal therapy. Vlad was pretty well-read, she guessed, and probably had been a ghost hunter like Danny's parents. Over half the library seemed to be related to ghosts and ghost research; she had even spotted a first-edition copy of _Legends of Amity Park_ on one shelf.

Sam was paging through a periodical on ectoplasmic properties when Danny and a tall, red-eyed ghost with a vampiric appearance re-entered the foyer from a door on the opposite wall of the Ghost Portal. The ghost – undoubtedly the 'Vlad' that Danny had come to speak with – stopped short upon meeting Sam's glance. "Well, Daniel, so this is what it's about, isn't it? You didn't mention there was a young lady involved."

"I told you I brought a friend," Danny said, his tone defensive.

"Of course," Vlad replied knowingly, his eyes seeming to appraise Sam. He didn't look entirely unhappy, though, at what he saw. "Pleased to make your acquaintance, miss…?"

"Manson," she supplied. "Sam Manson."

"And I am Vlad. Doubtless you have heard a thing or two about me from Daniel, likely all of them negative."

"I haven't told her about you at all, but don't push your luck," Danny pointed out, glaring at the other ghost.

Vlad, for his part, looked surprised. "Well then, I shall leave the second impression in your hands, hmm?" He smiled humourlessly. "Well, Miss Manson, it's a pleasure. I do hope things work out for yourself and young Daniel here, it really is about time he started thinking about himself rather than putting everyone else first."

"I thought you said you were trying to be more selfless?" the teenaged ghost said, rolling his eyes.

"Why, I am," Vlad replied, sounding a bit surprised. "That's why I'm talking about _your_ well-being, aren't I?"

"You just don't get it," Danny sighed.

Looking agitated, the vampiric ghost drew himself up as though trying to appear taller, arranging his hands behind his back. "Perhaps I don't. Well, in any case, if your sister will have it, please let her know that I will be by shortly, and I will bring all the materials available to me."

"Will do." Danny nodded and gestured for her to follow. "Come on, we're going back now. Thanks, Vlad."

"Of course," Vlad replied with a slight smile. "My Portal is always open."

"That's a new one," Danny muttered as they exited the foyer and drifted back out into the Ghost Zone.

"What is?" Sam asked curiously.

"Vlad," the ghost boy said, laughing slightly at her puzzled expression. "If you asked me even last week what I thought about that guy, I'd probably have told you he was my arch-enemy. We haven't always gotten along…actually, we haven't _ever_ gotten along."

"What changed?"

"I don't know if I want to talk about it all just yet," he said frankly. "But I'll tell you some. My parents…I found out that my parents died while I was in hiding. My mother, in an accident Vlad caused."

Sam tightened her grip, horror-struck. "Oh, no…"

"He let himself be killed as well, as a result. I think I believe him when he says he didn't mean it. But I guess now it comes down to whether or not I forgive him, and I'm not sure I do," Danny confessed. "But the thing about Vlad is that…he used to be a half-ghost too, like me. And now he's a full ghost, who happens to now have the weight of two people he once cared for on his conscience."

"Were your parents the people in the photograph?" Sam whispered.

"Does he still keep that?" Danny's eyebrows rose. "Mom and Dad went to college with him. The story is pretty complicated…Vlad and my father both had their eyes on my mother, but after their first Ghost Portal went awry, Vlad ended up hospitalized with ecto-acne while Mom and Dad fell in love and got married. Vlad was pretty bitter ever since."

"Understandable…"

"That was how we ended up fighting each other all the time," Danny continued. "Vlad thought that if Dad was out of the picture, he could have a chance with Mom. By the time he started that little crusade, though, I had had _my_ accident with the Ghost Portal and discovered his secret as well. Because of what I am, he kinda saw me as the son he'd never had, and wanted to win me over nearly as much as Mom, though obviously that wasn't going to happen." He sighed airlessly. "Vlad supplied Valerie with ghost hunting equipment, to give him more of an edge, not to mention a way of spying on me…and then I got stronger faster because of how much ghostly energy I'd been hit with. We were at a stalemate. Sometimes we teamed up, sometimes I had to intervene to stop him from actually hurting Dad. And then the whole mess with Youngblood happened, and my parents moved to the other side of the country."

"And Vlad?" Sam asked, mouth dry.

"I don't really know," the ghost boy replied. "I guess he was upset about losing his 'protégé' too. I didn't hear tell of him in Amity once Mom and Dad left, and to tell the truth I didn't even really _think_ about him much until I found out what happened to Mom. Jazz is…Jazz is really angry that I forgave him so fast. Just another sign of how much time heals, I guess; I hardly even remember my parents' faces now. I wonder what they'd think of me?"

"I'm sure they'd be proud of all the things you've done for the city," Sam told him.

"So why doesn't the city love me?" Danny laughed hollowly. "Now, I wish I'd told them that I was the ghost kid. I told myself I was trying to protect them, but really I was just trying to protect myself."

"What's wrong with that?" she asked, her voice so soft it was nearly indiscernible.

"I just think…" Danny sighed again. Sam was glad he had that habit still, though he never seemed to expel any air. "I always think about how things might have turned out differently. If I'd known what the Portal would do to me that first time…or if I'd been honest with my Mom and Dad. What if I'd known you back then, Sam? Would I be the same person I am now?"

"Of course not," she replied, "because people are shaped by their experiences. That doesn't mean that you shouldn't be happy with who you are, though, just because things 'might' have been different. Even if you believe everything happens for a reason, that's fine, but at least know as well that a person can change their own destiny. Always."

"I do."

"Of course you do. You wouldn't be here if that wasn't the case."

"More than you know." Danny laughed. "Look, there's the Portal. I need to ask Jazz a favour, and then I'd like it if we could talk some more, someplace private. Is that all right?"

"Sure." Sam forced back the urge to question him, remembering the agreement they'd made back at the mansion. "_If things work out positively, I'll tell you_."

What if things didn't work out positively? Sam didn't have time to wonder. They drifted through the portal and set down on the grey concrete of Jazz's basement, leaving the gate conspicuously open behind them. Danny glanced over his shoulder at the door. "I hope nobody else gets in. Vlad said he'd be along as soon as he got a few things together…and to give me time to clear things with Jazz first. She's not exactly very happy with him right now." The ghost detached the Fenton Thermos from the strap over his shoulder and placed in on a table. "I'm not taking any chances by releasing Bertrand and Spectra into the Ghost Zone, in any case."

"Good," Sam said, relieved. She followed him up the stairs to the kitchen, where Jazz was sitting alongside someone unexpected, causing them both to stop in alarm.

"Valerie," Danny choked out, stepping protectively in front of Sam.

"Ghost kid," the Hunter nodded cordially. "Er, I mean, Danny. Sorry, that's tough to get used to."

"Don't worry about it," Danny assured her, his posture relaxing slightly. "I, uh, didn't expect to see you here. I was hoping to talk to Jazz for a bit."

"I _was_ expecting to see you here, and I have something important to tell you," the curly-haired woman said firmly. "Sit."

Sam sat. Danny continued to float with both legs present, about ten centimetres off the floor, behind the Goth teen's chair.

Valerie glared at him. "I said _sit down_ like a normal person, Danny Fenton. Just because I know who you are doesn't mean I'm okay with you acting ghostly around me now."

"Okay." Danny looked slightly nauseous as he solidified and sat in the chair between Sam and Jazz.

The former ghost hunter sighed deeply and steepled her fingers on the table. He face looked worried and fatigued, more so the result of years than of her current mood, Sam thought. Valerie locked eyes with her nemesis and held his gaze. "I'm sorry for what I've put you through."

Danny, who had evidently expected a firing squad, could not prevent his mouth from falling open at this. "Say what?"

"I said I'm sorry." Valerie looked slightly irked at having to repeat herself. "I've been trying to get some perspective all day, okay? Don't think I've forgiven you for keeping this secret from me all this time, not to mention for letting me think you were _dead_. I'm still mad about that."

Jazz coughed and looked away.

"I spent my whole life hating you, and I won't pretend to be so altruistic that I can forget it in a second. But now that everything's out in the open, Jazz and I have been talking, and I realized that _I_ was one of the reasons you felt you had to run away from Amity Park. I never believed you when you said you were trying to help, even though the evidence was right there in front of me. And I blamed _you_ for all those times your human side got hurt. What was I supposed to think?"

"I don't know," Danny mumbled, misery evident on his face.

"I'm not over it yet, but I'm making it up to you anyway," Valerie said softly.

"What?"

"I'm going to use my influence to set the record straight. Thanks to my book, I'm _the _paranormal expert around here, and I want to make it safe for you to stay in Amity Park."

A smile spread across Danny's features. "Val…"

"It's not fair that you be hated for existing when you can't change yourself," the ex-Hunter continued. "You've been around as long as I have, and you've never done anything purposely malicious. You're the exception to the theory on ghost degeneration, but we still treat you like you're a danger, and that's not right."

At first Sam didn't bother to correct Valerie on the degeneration detail; the less people who knew how close Danny had come to letting go of himself, the better. But then a very real fear begin to nag at her conscience, a fear that had less to do with destroying Val's newfound ambition to repair Phantom's reputation and more with what would eventually happen to Danny now that he was a full ghost. Were they really back to square one? Sam quashed her reservations, feeling slightly guilty. "But the situation was different, then…"

Danny knew immediately what Sam was getting at, nimbly cutting her off. "And that's why Vlad is coming over soon. I have a theory, and I think between Jazz and Vlad we can make it happen."

Sam fell silent. _He _did_ say he needed to talk to me alone. I guess it has something to do with this. _She decided it was better to wait until Danny told her straight out what it was he wanted to say.

Jazz's interest had been attracted, though, and she glared at her little brother. "_Vlad_ is coming _here_? Honestly, Danny! You could have asked me!"

"And you could have said no," Danny replied reasonably. "I _need_ you guys to work together to fix my problem. He's changed, and I know you want someone to blame. I do too, but I'm just going to go on blaming myself."

"Danny…" Jazz frowned.

"Valerie is giving me a second chance, so I guess Vlad deserves one too," the ghost boy argued. "Besides, he's already on his way, and he has the know-how and the materials to make it happen."

Jazz brightened noticeably. "You mean Vlad actually thinks your idea will work?"

"He's sure of it," Danny confirmed. "but he needs real-world help. You just need to supply your brainpower…and a little bit of diet cola."

* * *

Vlad, Jazz and Valerie were hard at work on Danny's mysterious project by the time Sam and the ghost boy left the house via air. Val had warned Danny that even though she'd contacted the higher-ups in the Ghost Squad, he still shouldn't allow himself to be seen just yet, so as to avoid a mass panic. That was fine with Sam; the less eyewitnesses to her presence in Amity Park, the better – at least until she had a solid story to give her parents about where and why she'd gone. She was still a minor, at least until her eighteenth birthday next month, and the last thing she needed was to explain Danny's condition to the local police before Valerie made the whole story publicly known.

"So, where are we headed?" she asked as they took to the sky, shivering slightly. Night had fallen during their time in the Ghost Zone, and the streets of Amity Park were beginning to empty of traffic. Sam had to hold back a yawn – she'd been up since a ludicrous hour that morning on fairly little sleep.

The lack of rest didn't seem to affect Danny, which caused her to wonder once again what happened to him during those periods of apparent unconsciousness. Perhaps ghosts instinctively did that to pass the time, or simply to replenish their strength. Though they healed fast, she knew they could be wounded. Maybe, Sam mused, she should ask about that again, now that Danny's memory had returned. It might be one of those things that he'd puzzled out during his early halfa years.

Danny grinned momentarily, then tried to assume a nonchalant face. "Back to FentonWorks."

"Is that a good idea?" Sam wondered aloud.

"If you're worried about your grandmother, we'll go in through the roof. We don't have to stay long; I just need to tell you something important, and I wanted to do it…well, someplace meaningful."

_Someplace meaningful. The place where we met._ Sam's mind raced. She had thought he wanted to tell her about the concoction Jazz and Vlad were working on; something to do with ghost degeneration. Maybe even a cure that could stop it from affecting him in the future. But why would he want to take her someplace special just to explain that?

_Maybe it's something bad. Maybe this cure is going to be for _other_ ghosts, and Danny just wants to break it to me gently that it's time for him to cross over and be with his parents. _He probably could, now, now that he was a full ghost. He'd never be able to live normally again.

But the possibility that appealed most to Sam, that was looking ever more likely as he put it off – _I need to talk to you alone; I wanted to do it someplace meaningful; if things work out positively _– was that Danny wanted to tell her how he really felt about her. He already knew how _she_ felt, so if he felt the same way, why not? A nervous grin crept onto her face. "Okay. The attic's fine."

"Good." They were already three-quarters of the way across town, Danny navigating above the familiar streets by moonlight. Amity Park was a very large town, Sam realized, that she hadn't yet had the opportunity to experience. It seemed the quiet street where she'd spent her summer days was only a fraction of the world Danny lived in. In the night time, when the streetlights were all lit, it seemed so serene that Sam could not imagine such a place being the "paranormal capital" of the world.

She almost didn't recognize her grandmother's house in the dark, so seldom had she ventured outside of it at night. Danny slowed and went intangible, transforming her along with him, just before approaching the octagonal window and easing through the wall to land in the attic.

Sam noticed a split second before their entrance that light was brightly shining through the window, a clear indication that someone else was _in_ the attic. "Danny—"

Too late. Danny became solid for a split second before noticing they were not alone, then abruptly became invisible with his arm still secure around Sam's waist, but it was not quick enough. Ida Manson, seated on the rocking chair in the northwest corner of the attic, had spotted them both. "I thought you might come back."

* * *

-_to be continued…_


	27. Hero Complex

A/N: Thanks to **SilverstarsEbonyskies, Yoshi, L'ange-Sans-Ailes, Aki, Jenna Dax, Sasia, Anne Camp aka Obi-quiet, Phantom of a Rose, passing4insane, littlekittykat, luv2bamom, Crossover Fiend, BJA Fan, Anomaly25, Galateagirl, dArkliTe-sPirit, dragonbonez, Zuzanny, Nyaro, Leppers **and **Siren of Time** for reviewing last chapter.

To me, the end of a lengthy story is like saying goodbye to an old friend. You want to see the turnout as much as everyone else (not to mention the reactions) and yet at the same time you're loathe to make everything final. Is every loose end tied up? Did you take it as far as its potential called for?

I don't want to muck around in all the "what-ifs"; I want to see a completed version that I can be proud of all its parts, beginning middle and end. I even know _how_ it's going to end. (Which is more than I could have said about 10 chapters ago.) And at the same time, I want to please everyone; myself and the readers both, my friends who supported and rehashed ideas with me and roasted under halogen lamps while puzzling out "William's" father's name, not to mention Sam, Danny and even Jazz and Tucker. I want to end it in a way that everyone will think, "Wow, that was worth the wait and the thousands of words it took to get there". And then at the same time, I don't want to see it end at all. XD

There's a lot of dialogue about to hit you, and I'm sorry for that. This is not the last chapter, but it is setting the stage for the final bow, so I hope you all enjoy.

* * *

Estrelas

Chapter 27

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

Frowning, Sam eased out of Danny's grip, causing her to become visible. "I'm sorry, I don't want to get you in any trouble with Dad…"

Ida waved her off. "I'm not scared of your father, Samantha, dear, I _did_ raise the man, after all. Your mother is far more intimidating. Can you guess whom they called first when they realized you were missing again?"

Sam groaned. She tried to look apologetically at Danny – after all, he'd made her promise to tell her parents where she was – but he was still stubbornly invisible. "What did you say to them?"

"I told them I hadn't seen you." Ida shrugged. "And I hadn't. I did come up here in hopes that you or your ghost friend would drop by, though. I told them that maybe they ought to give you some space before they can expect you to just get over everything."

"Are you going to tell them I'm here?" Sam asked, faintly hopeful that her grandmother would cover for her.

"Do you think I should?"

"No," the Goth said decidedly. "I have some things I need to work out, and a lot to think about. I don't want to go home until then."

Ida pursed her lips thoughtfully. "But your parents are worried about you."

"I'll call them tomorrow," Sam promised. "Hopefully, things will be changing soon. They'll see that Danny isn't dangerous, and then I'm sure they'll be okay with me staying in Amity Park for a bit more. If you don't mind me being here, that is."

"Of course not," Ida replied. "You're the only granddaughter I've got, and I'd be happy to have you stay as long as you like. I don't mind your friend Danny either…though it would be nice if I could see him."

Obediently Danny became both visible and solid, landing lightly on the floor. "I guess I missed something, since you know me, but you haven't called the Ghost Squad yet."

"I know _of_ you," Ida corrected with a laugh.

"Danny, this is my grandma Ida, Grandma, this is Danny Fenton," Sam introduced hastily. It was awkward, but she pressed on, nervously running one hand through her ponytail. "You both already know the basics about each other, I think."

Ida nodded slowly. "It's a pleasure, Danny. I think I do recognize you from school at some point."

Danny started. "You were in school at the same time I was?"

"I was two grades ahead of your sister," she replied. "I imagine I saw you around from time to time, that's all. She was also the one who handled the sale of the house to myself and my husband years ago. How _is_ Jasmine doing?"

"Oh, just fine, she never changes." Danny looked slightly embarrassed. "Still as analytical as ever."

"That sounds about right," the elderly woman agreed. "Well…give her my regards. Samantha, can I ask what your plans are for the next day or two?"

Sam glanced at Danny. "Danny wanted to talk about something, and then I guess we were going back to Jazz's? I hadn't really thought that far ahead yet. I get the feeling we're going to be busy with the Ghost Squad tomorrow."

"Yeah, back to Jazz's," Danny echoed. "Unless you want to stay here."

"It's probably best if I don't, not tonight, when Mom and Dad could make a surprise visit." Sam looked at her grandmother for confirmation.

Ida nodded in reply. "Then I'll hopefully see you tomorrow, dear. Don't forget to let me know how you're doing, all right?"

"I will," Sam assured.

The elderly woman shuffled slowly to the attic hatch and began to ease herself down the stairs. "I'll let you be, then, child. It's late and I ought to be sleeping. Don't forget to get some rest too, do you understand?"

Her granddaughter nodded. "I will," she said again, stifling a yawn.

"And turn off the lights when you leave," Ida's voice drifted up from the hallway. "Good night, Samantha. Good night, Danny, nice meeting you."

"Good night," Danny and Sam chorused, grinning at each other. This was the kind of easygoing grandmother Sam recalled from her memories, and it was relieving to know that now that most of the misunderstandings had been cleared away, their relationship would be returning to status quo. When the hatch had been secured and Ida's footsteps drifted away, Sam looked at Danny expectantly. He appeared to be a little nervous, running hands through his snowy white hair and glancing around the room as though searching for a distraction.

Sam laid one hand on his back and guided him to the southwest corner of the room, where the old furniture was arranged just as they'd left it. She flopped unceremoniously onto the loveseat, while Danny eased into the tattered armchair facing her, the oak coffee table between them. Sam leaned forward with her elbows resting on her knees, propping her chin up in her palms. "So, what's this all about?"

"Well," he began, "there's actually a lot I have to tell you. Everything that's happened over the past weeks has been like a dream; I'm still just waiting for the moment when I wake up and realize none of it ever happened."

"Well, it did." Sam grinned at him. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A good thing," Danny clarified. "I never would have thought that I'd be making peace with Valerie, that she'd be sticking up for me to the town, that Vlad would be helping me, and I'd see my sister and Tucker again…and I never could have anticipated meeting someone like you, Sam."

"Aww." Sam's cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

"It's true," he persisted. "All of this is because of you. If you hadn't convinced me to come out and talk to you that day, I'd probably be up here for the rest of eternity, whiling away what was left of my psyche. I wanted to thank you for that, and to apologize for a few things."

_This is it,_ Sam thought, startled. _This is where he tells me, 'you've affected me so much, I can move on happily now, and I'm sorry, but we'll never see each other again.' Great. There's just no winning, is there?_

Danny had noticed her rapid change in expression. "Sam? What's wrong?"

"Preparing for the inevitable," she told him bluntly. "After a speech like that, what am I supposed to expect, other than 'thank you, and I'm sorry that I have to leave now, nice meeting you'?"

"It's not like that at all, I swear!" Danny cried, his green eyes flaring.

"Then why are you apologizing?"

"That is…" He looked away, directing his gaze at the wooden table. "Well…I got you in a lot of trouble with your parents, and I put you in danger, besides. I feel bad that you got so tangled up in the things going on around me that it affected your life."

Sam breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe she'd been overreacting…? But she felt that there had to be more bombshells left to be dropped. There was no clear and simple resolution to their newest problem; namely that she was a human and Danny was once again a ghost. One that would hopefully be welcomed again by the town that had once scorned him, but a ghost nevertheless.

"There's more," Danny continued, still not lifting his eyes to look at her. "More than once, I lied to you about me, thinking I was doing the right thing for you. I won't say that was necessarily a wrong decision, because it seemed like a pretty good idea to me at the time. I'm just used to trying to protect everyone all the time, and it was getting me in trouble long before you ever came along."

"We talked about this already. You don't need to apologize again," Sam said reasonably.

Danny shook his head slowly. "No, let me finish, there's more to this than you know. Ever since I got my ghost powers, I've been constantly struggling to make everyone happy and do what's best for them. But sometimes it backfires. Like my parents; I should have told them my secret back when the accident first happened, and then they might have been able to cure me or at least support me. I could do without the cure, since I…" he trailed off uncertainly. "Um…there are lots of things I could never have done without my ghost powers. Even without the Fenton Portal, ghosts still materialize in the human world from time to time, ones that are actually a threat, like Spectra. It feels good to know that I have the ability to protect people from those that want to hurt them without reason. So I guess I wanted to admit to you that…I really do like being a ghost, almost as much as being human. It's freeing."

Sam nodded, indicating for him to continue, and Danny did with a long sigh. "In any case, I keep making decisions based on what I think is right for everyone else, but sometimes I'm selfish without even realizing it. I was also protecting _myself_ from my parents when I didn't come back after the accident at the lake. I told myself that leaving Jazz, even though she was my only chance of ever being normal again, was the best thing for her. Really, I just didn't want to face that fact that she was going to leave me alone someday. And then you…well, I keep doing really _stupid_ things with you while trying to convince myself that they're in your best interests. Like telling you Danny Phantom was some kind of monster…and denying that I had enough of a heart left to care for you. So I'm sorry for that. I guess I can't even be trusted with my own fate, let alone somebody else's."

"Danny…"

"And one last thing," he said quietly, plainly. "I've lied to you again, and I don't even have an excuse this time. At the time, I was telling myself that I didn't want to get your hopes up. Probably more like I didn't want to get _my_ hopes up. But it worked out for the best, so now I'm going to have to own up, and just hope you don't completely hate me when you've heard it all."

Sam groaned. There was something _else_ he'd deceived her about? This guy really had to get used to being truthful with people, because she wasn't the kind of girl who put up with dishonesty. She supposed that since he was admitting it all now instead of trying to keep things concealed, he was making a bit of progress, at least. "Oh, boy."

"I can't fit the whole explanation into a single sentence, so you'll have to hear me out here. Believe me, I won't blame you if you want to toss me through the window, just wait until you've heard it all, okay?"

Sam rolled her eyes. "Okay."

Danny interlaced his fingers, staring at his gloved hands. "I let you, and Jazz and Tucker, think that Valerie's weapon had completely taken away my ghost powers. Jazz and Tuck were so excited and hopeful that I'd get to live out a normal life that I didn't want to let them down when I realized the effects were starting to reverse."

Sam's mouth was dry. "Reverse? What do you mean? When was this?"

"Just after I went to see Vlad the first time," Danny confessed. "The same symptoms as when I first had the accident started to show up. Stuff like…suddenly, uncontrollably going invisible. Not being able to hold onto things."

"The way you dropped the Jack-A-Nine-Tails," Sam recalled.

"Yeah," he admitted tonelessly. "It just fell through my hands. I was hoping it was just coincidence and went on pretending everything was normal. Then my flying ability came back, and then intangibility. It was kind of undeniable at that point."

"I don't understand. Why would that happen?"

"Well, that's why I had to go back and talk to Vlad again. He'd told me before that the spectral properties were still bonded to my DNA, it was just out of ectoplasmic energy to work with. He thinks my ghost half started replenishing itself, and was just a bit shaky at the beginning because I wasn't actively trying to control my power anymore."

"But if your ghost powers were _back_ during the fight with Spectra, why didn't you use them?"

"I did," Danny said, sounding a bit embarrassed. "When I was fighting Spectra in the air I was able to stop her from swinging me around. When she threw me into the tree, I used intangibility and invisibility to pass through without hitting it. And then when she tied me up inside the house, I used intangibility to get through the ropes and out through the roof."

Sam's breath caught in her throat. "You are _not_ about to tell me what I think you are about to tell me."

"Uh…what should I tell you, then?"

"Are you saying," she pressed on, voice thin, "that you let me think you were _dead_ when you're actually just fine?"

"Well," he mumbled, "not 'dead' so much as letting you believe for a bit that I was a full ghost. I had a reason for it, I swear."

"You'd better!" she exploded, clenching her hands into fists. How _dare_ he? "I was actually concerned about you! I really thought you'd died in there!"

"You thought I was a full ghost before I got my memory back," he tried to reason, but she cut him off.

"That was different! I didn't see _that_ happen in front of my eyes! You change back this instant, Danny Fenton!"

Meekly, the halfa reverted to his regular self, holding both hands up in a protective gesture. Even though she was so angry she could barely see straight, it was a huge relief to see his human side again. "I know it's not the same thing, and don't worry, I told Jazz and Tuck that I was all right. I had to, 'cause Jazz was bawling her eyes out when I showed up to drop off Tucker's car. I didn't really _want_ to keep you in the dark, but I had to talk to Vlad first, because I didn't really know what I was going to do from here on."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked, her knuckles white on the arm of the love seat.

Danny frowned and met her gaze for the first time since the start of their conversation. "I thought I was going to be run out of Amity. Yeah, I was a halfa again, not that I ever _really_ stopped being one, but my whole life is in Amity Park. Your parents hate me and the world knows my secret. I didn't know what to _do_, Sam. I thought maybe if everyone thought I was a full ghost, I could make a more permanent home in the Ghost Zone, and not have to put you and Jazz through the trouble of having to hide and cover for me…"

"Trying to protect me _again_? Do you have a hero complex, or what?"

"Yes!" he hissed, bringing a clenched fist down on the table. "Yes, I _do_, and can you blame me? Playing the hero, or at least trying to, is what I've done with my _entire life._ It's even worse when the things I do to protect other people also happen to be a useful way of running away from my problems. Don't you think it sounded easier for me to let you guys think I went full ghost and just back quietly out of your lives than to tell you that I botched things again, and we were back to square one with the whole 'eternal life' problem?"

"Oh, Danny," Sam whispered, much of the anger rushing out of her in one breath. "I'd forgotten about that."

"I didn't," he replied, his voice strange. "That was the other reason I went to see Vlad."

"You think he knows something that can help you?"

"I _know_ he knows something," Danny said confidently. "Vlad was an evil genius when he was alive, but a genius nevertheless. After Val hit me with that weapon, my voice started changing, and I was healing at a normal rate for a human. That's why we thought I was, for lack of a better word, 'cured'. But it was only because the energy levels in my body had changed. The thing is, Vlad designed that gun that temporarily stripped my powers – I realized after that that it was probably based on the Plasmius Maximus, something he'd used on me years and years ago – _and_ even though he was a half-ghost too, he never seemed to have the aging problem I did. So he had two points towards fixing my problem."

"But you said he was in an accident with the Ghost Portal, just like you."

"Yes," Danny clarified, "but his was in a _malfunctioning_ Portal. There were impurities in the ectoplasmic energy that he was hit with back then, thanks to my Dad pouring diet cola into the machine instead of ecto-purifier. I think, and Vlad agrees, that if we can permanently decrease the amount of ghost energy in me, I'll keep aging, like it looked like I was starting to do when Val zapped me."

"So you'd keep your ghost powers, but your human side would start to grow up," Sam realized.

"'_If things work out positively, I'll tell you._'" Danny repeated the words he had told her before they'd ever left Whipstaff. "I didn't want to get your hopes up _again_."

"And now?"

"And now, the two biggest paranormal experts in Amity Park along with the only other halfa to ever have existed, are trying to make a solution that can put an end to all my problems."

"You're kidding."

"Vlad, Jazz and Valerie are all working together." Danny laughed, looking a little embarrassed. "Who would have thought?"

Sam had to hold in a laugh. She didn't really know Vlad or Valerie, but Danny's stories about them portrayed them as the types of people – ghost and hunter – who wouldn't or couldn't get along. "I guess Valerie turned out to be more of a friend than you could have expected."

"Yeah," Danny echoed. "It's funny, 'cause we didn't even know each other all that well when we were in high school. We dated for a very short time, and then moved on to protect our secrets."

Sam's heart inexplicably clenched. "I didn't know you dated Valerie."

"It's a long story…involved a ghost named Technus who liked to possess appliances." Danny laughed. "But that's in the past now. I hear Valerie got married to a guy we both knew in high school, and she has kids who are grown up now, too. I guess the same thing happened to just about everyone else I used to know back then. Just because my sister ended up an old maid doesn't mean that I should have expected anyone else to be."

"Funny how time keeps moving on and leaving you behind," Sam mumbled.

"Once, I went to see Clockwork, the ghost of time, about my problem," Danny confided. "If there's any other being who knows eternal afterlife, Clockwork is your ghost. He's always been the mysterious, loner-type though, so he never gave me any real answers."

Although she was still listening intently, a strange, unsettling feeling had sunk into the put of her stomach. Sam began to pick at a loose thread on the arm of the love seat, separating the red strings from the brown and orange they were interlaced with. The red ones were thicker than the rest, set in an uneven crosshatch disrupted by thousands of fibres that had snapped over the years. "You'd think the Ghost of Time would know the solution."

Danny stared at the worn table between them. "I used to be angry about it, but now I'm sure he _did _know the solution. I only happened across Clockwork by chance one day, when Tucker and I were charting areas in the Ghost Zone. He seemed like a really stiff, by-the-book kind of guy, but he helped me out once when Vlad infected Tucker with ecto-acne. He plays by his own rules, and I think he plays favourites. I always thought he liked me."

"So why didn't he tell you how to cure yourself?"

"Because I think he knew that if things kept going as they were, I'd eventually meet you."

Sam's head snapped up. "Me?"

"Sure." Danny shrugged and looked up at the window, where the moon was hidden from sight, but still caused the visible patch of sky to glow brightly through the glass. "Clockwork probably could have pointed me in the right direction. Heck, _he's_ the reason I know what ecto-impurities cause Vlad's acne. I hope I don't end up like that after he and Jazz make the cure." He shivered. "But Clockwork was always telling me, 'things are as they should be…or as close as they're going to get.' I could never figure him out; he talks like a philosophy textbook. What else could he mean, but that I was going to meet you, and that meeting was going to spark all these changes? Valerie and Vlad on my side and working together with Jazz? A possible cure for my aging problem? Not to mention a possible chance at a normal life again…yeah, people are going to know me as "that Fenton ghost boy" or something equally stupid, but with Val's help, they might not run me out of town. And you…" He took a deep breath. "I'll understand if after everything I put you through, you only want to be 'just friends.' Or even if you want to go back to Whipstaff and never come back…I would blame you, really."

Sam was dumbfounded. "Why would I even think about doing that? Come on, I was serious when I said that…well…you know." Her cheeks began to burn.

"I don't know. I thought maybe after everything that had happened, you might have reconsidered what you said before. I'm still not the kind of guy your parents will want around." Danny blushed slightly and hid a smile. "Social circles and all that."

"What did I say about other people's problems? _I'll_ take care of my parents. That's my job."

Danny fidgeted. "But you'll probably be going home at the end of the summer, and my home is here, really, in Amity Park…what about the ghosts, right? Phantom needs to stay where _his _job is."

Sam rolled her eyes and laughed uncertainly. "_Hero complex,_ Danny. You guys have a _Ghost Squad_ for that, right? If you really wanted to go, they've been without you for more than a decade, so another couple of years is no big deal, right? That is, well…" She trailed off, avoiding his gaze. "I don't want to hear excuses, I just want a clear 'yes' or 'no,' okay? If you…I mean, if you're still…interested. In me, that is."

Danny paled. "No! I mean, yes, I am _interested_, how could I not be, I'm just not really…used to this kind of thing any more. I don't know what to say. I haven't caught up to the twenty-first century thing yet. I don't want to sound like an idiot."

"Say what you would have said if I had been there the first time around. It's not like I don't know anything about the sixties."

He nodded wordlessly and reached out to take her hand over the table. His fingers were so warm that Sam was startled at first at the contrast between him and his second self, but it was not an unpleasant feeling – in fact, she definitely thought she could get used to this side of him, too. The feeling spread up her arms like fire and went straight into her cheeks, causing a furious blush. _Maybe that Clockwork guy was right…maybe this was what we were meant for._

Their eyes met, and Danny took a deep breath. "Sam, would you like to…go steady with me?"

* * *

-_to be concluded…_

A/N: Man, I've been waiting for so long to type those last three words. "To be concluded."

-the author is immediately killed-

… You guys didn't _actually_ think I'd let Danny die and end this unhappily, did you?


	28. Epilogue

_Quick author's notes:_

**Wish –** It actually didn't get hard until I was reaching the end, and trying to tie up too many loose ends while doing everything I wanted to do with the story. I have a terrible memory and often forget my own details. XD Luckily I had a few friends and reviewers catching the imperfections for me!

**mrit –** No, because I wanted to end that part that way. XP

* * *

_Estrelas_

Epilogue

_by Shimegami-chan_

* * *

_**One Year Later**_

He knelt on freshly-mowed grass, his arms full of bright flowers; forget-me-nots and tiger lilies. _Symbolism_, Danny thought to himself. Blue and orange were his parents' favourite colours, and the breeds he'd chosen were particularly appropriate.

"So here I am," he began quietly, laying the bundle of flora on the polished white stones. "Finally coming to see you. If I know you guys, you didn't stick around to see how my half lives, so maybe you can't even hear this, but I had to try."

He took a deep breath. "A lot has happened. I guess maybe now you know that I was a half-ghost all along. You probably know what a coward I was back then, too, leaving you without a goodbye like that. I guess maybe I thought that eventually I'd get to say a real good-bye, but thanks to Vlad, this will have to do.

"Are you watching over me from somewhere, like angels? I wish I knew." The image of his father (as Jack had appeared when Danny had last seen him, young but enthusiastic in an orange Hazmat jumpsuit) as an angel brought a smile to the half-ghost's face. "You'd think that people like us who are supposed to be experts on the dead would know something about the world beyond. I can't say for sure. I'd like to explain everything that's happened to me since I left home, but I'll settle for just saying everything that's happened since I met Sam."

Danny sighed and plucked a blade of grass from the ground beside the grave, rubbing it between his fingers. "It was because her grandma was living in our old house. Sam was in the attic, looking for something when she got attacked by the Box Ghost. It figures that _he_ was the one who 'introduced' us, practically. She'd never seen a ghost before, but the first thing I noticed about her was how brave she was. I'd never met a girl like that before.

"We ended up talking a lot, and Sam wanted to help me get back my memory. Yeah…you'd think a halfa wouldn't be affected by degeneration. I guess I stayed in my ghost form too long, though, and when it started to kick in, I really didn't care. It seemed like it would be easier to just let the older, painful memories go. That was dumb, I know." He paused. "But Sam went out and did the research for me, until we figured out who I was, even though it was getting her in trouble with her family and her nutjob psychologist – who turned out to be a ghost." Danny grimaced.

"My memory came back as soon as I turned back into Danny Fenton, so that solved my big problem, but someone caught me on tape and they put my identity all over the news, just like I'd always been afraid of. It was pretty bad for a while, but then the weirdest thing happened." He'd decided to leave out the details of _how_ he'd made peace with Valerie again, figuring that what they didn't know couldn't make them worry more, unless they already knew. "You know Valerie Gray, my old friend from high school? She was a ghost hunter, and we used to fight a lot…but when I saw her, after my identity had come out, she did everything she could to put the town on my side. Everything from doing talk shows to writing a revised edition of her book, _Legends of Amity Park. _I never thought Val had it in her." He laughed, twirling the blade of grass around his fingers. "I went from being Ghost Enemy Number One to the town hero. You'd never believe it if you saw it."

He paused, tearing the blade into long, thin strips and letting the breeze take them. "It's so strange. Everyone knows me, but not in the way I'd have expected…people come up to me at the grocery store and tell me that I saved them from one ghost or another over the years. They thank me because I've made an impact in their lives, so long ago that half the time I don't even remember it. But they never forget. I guess I was so self-concerned that I never noticed some people were supporting me all along.

"I'm doing a lot better now, though, thanks to Valerie and – can you believe it? Vlad Masters. Between them and Jazz, they whipped up a permanent cure for my aging problem. I was nervous at first because I still don't totally trust that guy, but he was true to his word. He got enough ecto-impurities into my system that I started changing, but not so much that I ended up with that creepy ecto-acne. I've grown four inches since then," he confided, sounding proud. "I don't heal as fast, but I'm not getting into very many ghost fights nowadays. Jazz is great at managing her portal, and though we unsealed the basement of Mrs. Manson's house, the only one that can get through the genetic lock on the Fenton Portal is me. The ghosts are probably all terrorizing each other now instead of the human world, and I like it that way.

"I still wonder sometimes how things would have turned out if I'd just told the world my secret back when I was a teenager. Though…" He trailed off, smiling. "If not for all of this, I wouldn't have met Sam, and she's the best thing to happen to me. We've got a little house in town now, and she'll be starting college in the fall. _Not_ doing anything ghost related, thank goodness."

Danny rearranged his posture, sitting on the concrete perimeter of the grave with his back facing the headstone. Somehow it seemed more natural to be talking to his parents if he didn't have to acknowledge that engraved marble slab that bore the dates. "She doesn't know what she wants to do yet. Maybe something in design. Since she moved to Amity and started going to the high school here, though, she's made a lot of girl friends and they're all into gothy, punky clothes that they make themselves. Sam would probably really like to do that for a career." He grinned sheepishly. "Not that she really _needs_ to work, between her parents being rich and all the money racking up interest in the bank account Jazz set up for me way back when…our house is right near Jazz's, by the way. It's really funny when we go places together and she tries to introduce me as her 'little brother.' She gets a kick out of it though; you know how Jazz is…"

He turned slightly, looking at the flowers again. "I guess what I'm trying to do here is just let you know that I'm okay. Better than okay, even. And there are never going to be enough 'I'm sorries' to make up for everything I've done wrong in my life, so Sam made me promise not to even try. I just…thought I would come out and see you, because I haven't done that yet, and Jazz has been fixing up everything…I guess I was a little bit scared. I hope you don't blame me for that. For a guy that's been half-dead for most of his life, I don't seem to deal very well with this kind of thing."

Danny stood up and arranged the bundle of mismatched flowers beside the headstone his parents shared. "I guess that's all I have to say for now, but I'll come back to talk every once in a while. After that…I know we'll see each other again someday." He smiled and rubbed away the moisture in his eyes with the back of his hand. "Later rather than sooner, at this rate, but I'll make it to where you are, someday."

* * *

_She'd been seated quietly for a long while after she gave him her answer, fidgeting with the hem of her black tank top, avoiding his gaze for fear that she'd grin so much her face would fall apart. She was Sam Manson! She was cool, calm and collected, even in the wake of just being asked to go steady (_go steady_, she thought happily to herself. The sixties had never seemed so romantic!) by the guy she'd been slowly becoming crazy about. _

_Danny had smiled shyly, wringing his hands with obvious excitement. "So, what shall I wear to meet your parents? Think your mom prefers blue eyes, or green?"_

_She'd laughed. "I hope you're joking."_

_"You never know, some people have that superhero attraction."_

_"I can't think of _anybody _like _that_," Sam responded, followed by a high-pitched, fake laugh. _

_"What a shock!" He put a hand to his mouth, deadpan. "Are you insinuating that a high-born young lady such as yourself might ever find themselves in a relationship with one of those common, muscle-bound types?" _

_"The superheroes I prefer are neither common nor muscle-bound," she huffed, playing along. "You don't meet ghost boys every day, you know."_

_"That's true." Danny stood and casually began to stretch, the movements obviously theatrical. When both arms were high above his head he transformed, two blue-and-white rings of energy forming at his waist and washing over his limbs like luminous paint. When the change was complete, he'd crossed his arms over his chest and regarded her seriously. "Of course, girls like you aren't exactly common, either."_

_"I don't know if I can believe that," she said, laughing._

_"Hey, it takes something special to catch a ghost boy."_

_They fell silent for a moment, as though both had abruptly come back to a conversation that had happened without them. "Everything is going to change," Danny said finally, his false bravado leaving him like an exhalation of breath._

_"That's okay, right?" Sam asked, concerned. His face was caught between happiness and distress. "Danny?"_

_"It's okay," he said slowly. "It's just strange. It's different, but I think it's worth getting used to."_

_"All changes take some of that. That's life."_

_"That's ironic." Danny stepped over the low table and she hastily stood up, facing him. They shared the small space between the table and the couch for a moment, close enough that the chill of his ghost form made her shiver – less from cold than exhilaration at his nearness. He didn't speak again, though he looked as though he wanted to. Instead, he shyly put his arms around her and drew her close._

_Sam ducked her head to hide her blush. "Green eyes look good on you, but I think we'll show my mother the blue ones first."_

_He'd laughed nervously and brushed his fingers against her cheek. "I really never imagined that anything like this could ever happen to me. Sam…"_

_Her fingers tightened on his shoulders. "Whatever happens next, we can handle it, okay? It doesn't matter what my parents or Jazz or anyone says. Even if the cure doesn't work, promise me, it's _us _from here on in." _

_"I promise." He'd hugged her tightly, and she breathed in a long, satisfied breath as a lengthy, comfortable silence passed between them. When Danny finally spoke again, his words were a whisper that was cold but pleasant in her ear._

_"Can I keep you?"_

_She'd just smiled and closed her eyes. "You have to ask?"_

* * *

_-fin _

* * *

Author's Note: Let me begin by saying a heartfelt 'thank you' to everyone who stuck with me through to the end, especially those who commented with their thoughts and questions, even if it was only a single review. I appreciate you guys so much and it's you whom I wrote this story for. Even more thanks go out to those who kept supporting me offline; **mrit, Akoya **and **Epyon Zero**, for your input and encouragement. See, I told you I was going to fit that last Casper reference in somewhere. Everyone who ever took the time to e-mail me personally, thank you! You wouldn't believe what kind of effect that can have on a writer!

Some people are already asking what's next for me. Some of you probably remember that I'd like to write professionally, sooner rather than later, and I hope to try my hand at novel-writing in the near future. Fanfiction-wise, I have a handful of ideas for _Danny_ one-shots, as well as a short chaptered _Fairly Oddparents_ piece, and I'm going to write a _Final Fantasy VI_ story for a contest entry. If you're interested in any or all of these, feel free to add me to your Author Alert list.

I'm just going where the pen takes me next, I guess.

So this is goodbye for now, and I can only wish that everyone who reads this far will come away from the final chapter with a smile on their face. I hope it's as enjoyable to read as it was to write.

Take care!

-Shimegami


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